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#fighting him was so much more than ever watching the fight to the extent any alt toons i make are probably going to be 149 maximum
chiprewington · 10 months
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DID U WIN UR CHAINSAW CONSULTANT FIGHT ...
I sure did! First try!
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disillusioneddanny · 9 months
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Danny felt like his stomach was tied in knots as he finished getting ready for the day. Dick had told him that they were going to Wayne Manor for Danny’s birthday dinner and Danny was feeling sick with nerves. Growing up, his parents had never really acknowledged Danny’s birthday, had never even really remembered it if he was being completely honest. Danny suspected that it had to do with the fact that they had never really even wanted Danny in the first place, but he had never been brave enough to actually voice those thoughts to anyone.
Living with his adoptive parents, Danny was quickly realizing that his relationship with his parents was more complicated than he had ever realized. With Dick, things were easy. The two had breakfast each morning, sugary cereals more often than not, they would have a pun off as they got ready for their day and then Dick would drop Danny off at Bludhaven High and he’d go off to work at the local community center. And without fail, each day he would pick Danny up from school, they would talk about their day and then have dinner together before Dick went off on patrols as Nightwing and Danny found himself manning the computer and keeping an ear open for any crime going on that needed Nightwing’s attention.
Their weekends were usually filled with different outings and adventures. Whether that be Dick dragging Danny to the movies, or going to different festivals that were being held in the city, or going off Gotham to hang out with Dick’s and well, now Danny’s, family to hang out. Or he would find himself going with Barbara to see a play or to a coffee shop to hang out and people-watch. It was weird and not something Danny was super used to. He had never had a parent that cared this much about him. Or even asked him what he wanted to do.
That was the thing with the Fentons, Danny realized. They did things to spend time with Danny, to act like they were putting in the effort to be a good parent to him. But it had always been on their terms, it was always things that they wanted to do. They never really cared all that much for Danny’s input or even really listened when he would try to say he didn’t want to do something.
Dick and Barbara respected him and he treated Danny like the now sixteen-year-old he was rather than just a pest. It never failed to make Danny’s heart feel warm with affection for the older man who had taken him in. He had been living with the Graysons for six months now and there were so many things he was learning about himself and realizing about the Fenton’s that he just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around a lot of it.
He had known that the Fenton’s weren’t great parents, it was a niggling thought that stayed with Danny the majority of his life. A thought that got a bit louder when he was around Tucker’s parents or Valerie’s dad, parents who truly loved their kids and were attentive and knew what was going on in their lives–well for the most part. But they were parents who made an effort and actively tried to be there for their kids, to get to know them and encourage their interests.
Jack and Maddie had never really done that for Danny, not really. They did it with Jazz to an extent, but even then it wasn’t the way Danny had seen other parents interact with their kids, it wasn’t the same way that Dick and Barbara seemed to interact with Danny.
But even though he had those niggling thoughts, he still strived for their approval, for their love and attention and he never really seemed to get it.
Then they had found out that Danny was a halfa and Danny found himself fighting for his life to get away from the Fenton’s. They had held him captive for a week before he had finally found a way to escape. And then he ran and ran and ran until he found himself in Bludhaven, New Jersey and living on the streets.
But living on the streets was by far better than being the Fenton’s prisoners. It was after three months of living on the streets that Nightwing had found him beating the shit out of a mugger who had been attacking a woman. Then two months of the two of them talking and learning more about each other. And then Nightwing had decided he wanted Danny to live with him, not only that but he wanted to help Danny get justice. And then Danny learned that Nightwing was Dick Grayson and Danny found himself getting adopted by the thirty-one-year-old and his wife, Barbara.
And then it had become the best six months of Danny’s life. The couple were amazing and he found himself seeing Dick and Barbara as his parents more and more. Part of him wondered if he should have felt bad about how easy it was to replace Jack Fenton and Maddie
But then Danny reminded himself that Jack Fenton and Maddie Fenton were now serving a life sentence in Belle Reve down in Louisiana for torturing and vivisecting his then fifteen-year-old son. Then Danny didn’t feel nearly as bad. Especially not when he was the one who was forced to look at the vivisection scars that marred his chest or the lightning-shaped scars that trailed from the palm of his hand to his heart. Then he remembered that not only had his parents experimented on and tortured him. But they had also created an unsafe environment that led to Danny’s half-death in the first place.
Dick had been the one to tell him that it was their fault he had died in the first place. Had clenched his jaw and shook in anger as he held back from flying to Amity Park to kill the Fentons himself. Jason, Dick’s brother, had been more than happy to help him finish the job when Dick had told him what happened.
That was another thing.
Dick’s family was insane.
But in a good way. Not Fenton’s level insane. But an insane where Danny knew that he could call any of them and they would come to fight for him, even Damian who had been a little prickly when he found out that Dick was adopting a kid the same age as him. Damian had shown him his sword collection once and then viciously announced that anyone who laid a single finger on his nephew’s head would see just how deadly the Robin could truly be.
Which, well, Danny appreciated. But he had also quietly decided that he would never let Damian know if something happened. He really didn’t want to be the reason his uncle went to juvie.
Jason was fun, the two bonded over their deaths and compared scars. Cass was a calm peace that Danny found himself appreciating when the others were a bit too much. Tim had to be Danny’s favorite out of his new uncles.
Tim was the one who took him train hopping, who he cried to about the fact that his parents had been so horrible to him. Tim was the one who understood what it was like to grow up with neglectful parents who loved their work more.
Duke was kind and funny and conniving and as the only other meta in the family the two had created a fun camaraderie between them and Danny felt comforted in knowing that they had that solidarity between them. Duke was also the one who Danny found himself going to when his shoulders felt a little too heavy with the weight of everything that had happened.
Danny’s new grandfather and great-grandfather had been wonderful too. They had accepted Danny with open arms and Danny was pretty sure he had heard Bruce argue with Dick about adoption papers a few times in regards to Danny and being put out that Dick had beat him to it. Whatever the heck that meant.
And then there was Danny’s new adoptive mother, Barbara and she had been a pillar when Danny needed one. She had welcomed Danny to their home with open arms and had been the one to spearhead the investigation into the Fentons. The one who had gotten a hold of Danny’s records and taken care of virtually everything. She scared the absolute shit out of Danny but also gave the most amazing advice, the most comforting hugs, and had been exactly what Danny needed. She was also the one to show Danny that he could still be a hero without going out onto the field and had decided to train Danny to be an Oracle in his own right.
He had kept the name Phantom. But now it was more so because he was a ghost who saw everything and heard everything. He went out onto the field with the bats when they absolutely needed his firepower, but his preferred spot was being the man behind the scenes. After everything he had gone through being a vigilante in Amity Park, he wasn’t sure if he would ever want to be out there fighting bad guys, not like he was.
Again, he didn’t mind it when the bats really needed help, or if a disaster happened and they needed Danny’s powers to help out. He had even let Bruce train him to be able to fight just as good as any of the bats, and let Barbara’s Birds of Prey teach him some tricks that Bruce would never approve of.
But he was happy. He was happy and loved and safe and he couldn’t get over the fact that he had such an amazing family all for himself.
Barbara and Dick were amazing and had folded Danny into their family so seamlessly and wonderfully that it had him feeling safer than he had ever felt in his life.
Which was why he was so damn nervous about what he was about to do, why his birthday felt so terrifying and anxiety-inducing. He had decided that he was going to officially call Dick and Barbara his mom and dad today and he was hoping it went well.
He didn’t think they’d be mad. In all honesty, he was pretty sure that they’d be pretty pumped about it. But that didn’t take the nerves and anxiety away either.
He shook his head and finally allowed himself to walk out of his bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen where Barbara was bringing food to the dining room table while Dick was flipping a pancake onto another plate.
“Good morning Danny!” Barbara said cheerfully when she spotted Danny coming in. The sixteen-year-old gave her a nervous smile, bent down and kissed her cheek lightly.
“Morning Mom,” he said before he could back out of it. He glanced over at Dick who was now staring at him starstruck. “Morning Dad,” he said cheerfully before he waltzed over and grabbed the plate in his father’s frozen hands.
“I get birthday pancakes? Sweet,” he said with a wide smile before he grabbed a fork and made it back to the table, his adoptive parents both seemingly frozen in place. He tilted his head to the side as he took in Barbara’s form as she sat frozen in her wheelchair and to Dick who hadn’t moved, even after Danny took the plate from his hands. Maybe it was too soon to call them his parents, maybe they didn’t want that. Regret started to nibble at the edges of his stomach as he looked at them.
“Are you guys okay?” He asked hesitantly before his dad let out a loud sob and came running towards him and hugged him tight.
“My baby!” Dick cried, his arms wrapped tight against Danny’s chest. It was like he was being held onto by an octopus. Dick pulled the plate of pancakes away from Danny and set it on the table. Danny let out a groan as he struggled against his dad’s grip as Dick started to pepper his head and his cheeks with kisses. “Danny Grayson I love you so much,” he cried out.
“Dick,” Barbara said with a laugh as she rolled over, hitting Dick’s leg lightly with her wheelchair. “You’re going to smother our son,” she said and Danny felt the butterflies in his stomach start doing somersaults at that. Their son.
He was their son.
“I’m just so happy,” he cried out. “Fuck, is this how Bruce feels when we call him Dad?” he asked, letting out a sniff as he finally pulled away from Danny and started to fix the teenager’s hair.
“Yes, it is,” Danny’s mom said, giving him an amused smile. The redhead held her arms open for Danny and the sixteen-year-old happily bent down to give his mom a hug. “I love you, sweetie,” she said softly.
“Love you too,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, what’s all this?” He asked, motioning to the table that was full of different breakfast foods.
Barbara beamed. “We wanted to have a fun little breakfast before we started all of our birthday festivities. Dick and I have a few surprises for you, and we’re going to go and get lunch with my dad, then we’ve got a few more activities before we go over to Bruce’s tonight for your birthday party.”
Danny couldn’t help but smile widely at his parents. “We’re doing stuff all day?” He asked, feeling breathless and a little dizzy at the thought.
“Of course,” Dick said, slinging his arm over Danny’s shoulder. “Today’s all about you and we’ve got a lot to celebrate.”
Danny gave his parents a small, excited smile. “Yeah, we do,” he said softly. He had so much to celebrate, his new life, his new parents, his newfound happiness. He couldn’t wait to see where they were going to go from here. But he knew that it was going to be amazing. How could it not when he had such an amazing family taking care of him?
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dantakeyoman · 2 years
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pls part 2 to neteyam defending you 🫡🤍 but this time i'd love a continuation to motherly neytiri tending to reader!! and her hinting at the fact she had seen them and their son share a kiss after trying to find out all the commotion once hearing overprotective jake lose his cool at ao'nung!
Jake Is Pissed At Ao'nung, and Neytiri Talks To You About Your Kiss With Neteyam After All the Commotion (SFW)
Part 2 of "Neteyam Defending You"
CW: my dude Jake goes crazy, starts talking really freely to the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri is so nice and caring, best wing-woman ever, jake x reader (platonic; father-daughter-ish)
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"What the hell is the matter with you, boy?! I oughta fight you right now!" Jake shouted as his eyebrows furrowed, the boy doing his best to try and understand the angry, English words.
Jake always switched to English when he was mad.
It was instinct, and English had more expressive cuss words than Na'vi anyway.
"Mawhey, My Jake," Neytiri whispered, quietly stepping in front of her husband and resting her hands on his chest, her eyes flicking to the crowd of village people that started to form.
"Please. The people are watching."
The entire Sully family stood behind you and Jake, on one side of the walkway, while Ao'nung, his friends, and the rest of the Metkayina stood on the other.
It looked as if both sides were warring.
"Let 'em watch. This shit needs to be dealt with," Jake growled, carefully moving her out the way and getting ready to scream at Ao'nung some more.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Tonowari asked calmly, him and Ronal breaking through the crowd and stepping to the front.
His tone was calm, but you could see on his face that he was clearly angered with the fact that his on was injured, and the outsiders shouting at him.
"The problem here? I'll show you the problem," Jake whipped his head over to you, giving a firm nod.
You nodded back with a sigh, stepping in the middle of the clan divide and lifting your arms, putting all of your injuries on display.
The Metkayina gasped, and Neteyam had to be held back by Lo'ak and Kiri.
He hadn't realized the extent of the damage when he was carrying you, but looking at it now, he should've hit Ao'nung twice as hard.
You had hand-shaped bruises all over your arms, and one on your ankle from Ao'nung's demonstration.
Your face had a large bruise on it's right cheek, and a bloody nose from being dropped on your face.
And the statement piece of it all, the nasty, pillow-sized bruise on your side, which was leaking blood from Ao'nung's toenails.
"Your words. Treat these Forest people like brothers and sisters. I don't see this shit as very familial," Jake spat, pointing roughly at Rotxo.
"That little shit managed to squeal about everything done to (y/n). The grabbing! The kicking! THE KIDS DROPPED HER ON HER FACE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
Your breath hitched, silently thanking Eywa that the Metkayina did not have good English.
Ronal and Tonowari quickly turning to their son in anger, their gaze practically burning holes into the boy.
"Is this true?" the two hissed, no longer masking their rage.
And the look of absolute fear on his face was the icing on the cake.
It almost made you feel sorry for him.
....Almost.
"ANSWER!" Tonowari shouted.
"YES! It's true!" He admitted, hanging his head.
The entire crowd gasped, and Tsireya did her best to hold back tears as she looked at your injured form.
You were a very nice girl, and an incredible friend. You didn't deserve this in the slightest.
She could not believe her brother for doing such a horrible thing.
"My kids come back to me nearly everyday talking about how this kid is constantly harassing them-." "He calls us all freaks," Tuk sadly chimed, glassy eyed as she tucked her face into her mother's side, Neytiri taking deep, full breaths to keep her composure.
"But for the sake of peace, I let it slide. Well all that stops tonight! I want it to be made perfectly clear that if your son, or ANY of his little friends so much as lift a finger to ANY of my children, they will have to answer to me!" Jake finalized, resting a hand on your shoulder at the word children.
It almost brought you to tears.
You felt so loved, and protected, and safe. It me your heart swell with joy.
"Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Rotxo and the other boys frantically agreed, terrified that, not only did they witness Toruk Makto's anger, but were the direct cause of it.
Everyone turned to Ao'nung to hear his response, but he stayed silent, dazed.
"SPEAK, BOY!" Tonowari shouted once again, pushing the boy forward with his staff.
"Understood!" he cried, turning his gaze down to the floor.
"Good," Jake huffed, un-puffing his chest.
"You have brought shame to this family. Go to the marui. You are grounded," Tonowari glared at his son, pointing his staff back to their home.
Ao'nung nodded, quickly turning around and speed-walking over, Tsireya following behind, ashamed.
Jake scoffed at the display, before turning to you with a softened face. "Now you. Are you okay? Wanna go get patched up?"
"Yes, sir," you nodded with a smile, quietly wincing from the pain of your bruised cheek.
"If you would accept, I could heal your daughter for you," Ronal stepped forward, apologetically bowing.
"I believe your family has done enough for tonight. I will handle this," Neytiri glared, stepping in front of you.
Ronal clenched her jaw, but nodded, turning around to follow her husband home.
"Come, child," Neytiri smiled at you, carefully taking your hand and leading you to the marui, Tuk and Kiri following close behind.
They entered, and the boys tried coming in after, but Neytiri stopped them.
"We must talk. Alone," Neytiri knowingly looked up at Jake, who nodded.
"That's alright. I gotta talk to these two, anyway," he agreed, resting his hands on the brothers' shoulders and leading them to a more secluded part of the island.
When Neytiri turned around, you were already sitting down, Kiri preparing the salves for your bruises.
She walked over and sat criss-crossed in front of you, picking up a special leaf to clean off your blood.
"My (y/n), are you alright?" she calmly asked, lightly swiping the blood from your nose.
"Yes. It looks worse than it feels. Truly," you assured, the loud wince you let out when Kiri touched a bruise quickly debunking your statement.
Neytiri sighed, carefully lifting your arm to wipe the blood from your side.
She needed to lift your spirits.
"You know," she started, a smile growing on her lips. "You and Neteyam remind me of me and his father when we were young."
You practically choked on the air you were breathing, the coughing fit you were sent into not feeling the best on your ribs.
Though it seemed like perfect entertainment for Kiri and Tuk, whose uproarious laughter could be heard from the next marui.
"I am serious," Neytiri politely laughed, halting her swipes on your side with a smile so you could catch your breath.
"He may not act like it, but your father used to be just as reckless as Lo'ak, maybe a little more."
"Really?!" Tuk asked, amazed.
"No way," Kiri scoffed with a smile.
Out of all the times he had scolded that boy, he was just as bad.
"But he was strong. He had a strong heart. No fear. Almost never hesitating to fight if needed," Neytiri continued, starting to smooth the salve over your rib.
"I see this in Neteyam."
She glanced up from her work, looking you in the eyes.
"For me, I was always calm. I wasn't as quick to fight as he, but I was still strong, and determined."
She looked back down.
"I see this in you."
Your cheeks turned a dark blue hue, despite the splashes of purple and red alredy there.
"The Great Mother knows all, and I feel she did not make this resemblance for no reason."
Was she saying what you think she's saying?
"Neytiri, what are you-?" "I am saying you and Neteyam have my blessing," she smiled.
Your breath hitched.
"Oh! I didn't....we weren't.....I wasn't-!" "No sense in denying it, (y/n). The whole clan saw you swapping spit with the boy as you came over," Kiri shrugged with a smile, teasingly poking you in the cheek, wary of your injuries.
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, embarrassed.
"Oh, stop," Neytiri chuckled, tucking a stray braid behind your ear. "I think it is cute."
bonus !!
Jake sat down on the sandy shore, Neteyam and Lo'ak sitting on either side of him, concerned.
"You two listen, and listen good," he started seriously, his tone leaving no room for games.
The two nodded, and the man continued.
"I want you two to watch that Ao'nung kid, and his little group of friends, too. Be nice for the sake of peace, but keep your heads on a swivel. If they say anything to your sisters or (y/n), you tell me, I'll sort it out."
Jake did a quick perimeter check, making sure no one was listening in.
"But if any of those little shits so much as touch a hair on their head, I give both of you full permission to beat the living shit out of each and every one of them. Don't worry about the repercussions, I'll take the heat. But that's gonna be the new protocol from now on."
The two boys nodded firmly, giving their father a serious look.
"Understood," Neteyam agreed.
He was glad his dad was giving him permission, but to be honest, he was going to end up doing this anyway.
Today, he made a silent oath that he was never going to let you get hurt on his watch ever again.
"Alright," Lo'ak smirked, cracking his knuckles with his fist.
"And as for you," Jake started up again, turning to Neteyam.
The boy gulped, bracing himself for a scolding of some sort.
"Who taught you how to kiss like that?" his father smiled, giving his son a proud pat on the back.
"Oh, yeah! Those two were going at it! They were like-." Lo'ak jumped up from his seat, hugging himself and making kissing noises.
"Aye!" Neteyam waved off with a smile, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks.
Jake chuckled at his boys' antics, throwing his arms around each one and pulling them into a hug.
This was what a family was for. Protecting one another, caring for one another, healing one another.
Jake had no doubt in his mind that his family was, and truly is, his fortress.
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tsuvvy · 8 months
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Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 2
Mistreated Stray
You wake up cuffed to a hospital bed. You refuse to cooperate with the Batfamily and stubbornly refuse to disclose any information about yourself or how you ended up in your job with Kerrim. And surprise rises when they find out whose DNA matches closest to yours.
Warnings: Mentions of pain, you are handcuffed to a bed, fighting with electricity, violence (not a lot), mentions of not eating well, implication of (not) poisoned food, mention of killing and torture, you being compared to a stray dog (not in a bad way, I promise)
Word Count: 2.3k
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Your head was pounding. Your limbs hurt. You felt uncomfortable.
You wanted to curl up into a little ball. But when you tried to move your hand, it didn't go very far. It was abruptly stopped by a force.
You peeled your eyelids open and managed to look down through your blurry vision. You were handcuffed to the bed.
You looked around with your confused and still somewhat blurry eyesight.
Off to the side, there was a man. He was decently tall and his clothes looked meticulously cleaned and pressed of any wrinkles there could ever possibly be with his perfect posture. He didn't have many similarities with your father, but you were quite disoriented. He was at a counter with his back towards you.
“Dad…?” You muttered out in a somewhat shaky voice of pain. Your head felt like it was getting worse.
The man paused in what he was doing at the sound. He took a moment before turning to look at you. He had gray hair and wrinkles along his forehead, which were both no doubt from aging. And he had a nice mustache as well. It was clear he had a nice job to get such a nice suit as the one he wore.
“Ah, I see you are finally awake,” He said, more of an observation than trying to speak to you. “I am Alfred Pennyworth,” Cassandra had already told him of her own observations that you couldn't understand much, but it looked like you could. No one knew to what extent of speech you knew and didn’t know. He grabbed the tray off of the counter he was just at. He stepped towards you and put it down on the bed next to you.
You almost curled away from him. Like a scared stray dog. Your gaze traveled to the tray, his hand, and then him. The tray had an assortment of little items on it. You couldn't tell what they were. They smelled good, but..
The man backed away from you, noticing your movement and cautious gaze.
“Go on,” he gestured toward the tray. “It is safe,” he offered a kind gaze. But he was meant with nothing but a mean scowl from you. He knew this was going nowhere, “I will return shortly.”
You watched him turn his back toward you. And you watched him leave.
It took a moment before you looked down the tray. You hesitantly reached a hand over, poking the little sandwiches on the tray before picking it up and smelling it. You took a tiny and cautious bite. It actually tasted.. Good..
You are so accustomed to the lazily prepared and bad tasting food that your father would feed you. So these tiny little sandwiches seemed like a delicacy. One that you could not stop eating.
You only stopped when someone stepped into the room that resembled that of a hospital one.
The old man had returned, then behind him came a red-head in a chair with wheels and two ravenettes in after her. The four stopped when they looked at you. The tray of 14 little sandwiches was down to about 3 now.
Alfred smiled at you, even if you had gone back to your stiff and cautious curl you could manage. Your body pressed against the arm of the hospital bed.
“I see you enjoyed the snack,” Alfred said, “Excuse me while I make some more for our guest.” He had turned to the three.
“Of course, it's no worries at all!” The red head told him with a smile before he made his exit.
You watched him leave, your gaze immediately turning to the three that entered farther into the room.
The woman with short black hair looked at you. You hated her gaze. You hated the pity you saw. And you hated the color. And you just hated it. You hated her.
“Hello,” the red head said, wheeling her chair a bit closer to the bed you were sitting in. “I'm Barbara,” her voice was sweet, gentle, and soft. “This is Bruce,” she gestured to the man with black hair who moved to stand behind her. “And that is Cassandra.” She stood farther away from the bed, her arms crossed, “Though you probably.. Already know her.” Barbara glanced at you, watching your reaction. Bruce watched carefully as well. You just glanced around at everyone warily.
Why weren't you locked up? Why weren't you getting worse treatment than just being cuffed to the arm of a hospital bed. You’ve seen your father kill and torture his enemies. Why wasn't that happening to you?
“What's your name?” Barbara asked you gently. Bruce stood behind the chair she sat in, still watching you.
“I…” Your voice was quiet, and you were hesitant, you looked away stubbornly. “Can’t tell.” Though you did keep the three in your peripheral. The three were a bit disconcerted from that answer. You were young, possibly younger than Damian, so why couldn’t you tell them?
“Why not?” The redhead asked. You didn’t answer so she moved on. “What about your age?” She asked gently, her gaze reassuring. You stubbornly shook your head. Barbara looked behind herself at Bruce, the two sharing the same look.
“I understand you are scared, but-” Bruce was cut off.
“Not scared.” You sent him a scowl.
“Alright, you aren’t scared,” he restated, “Either way we need to know why you were working for someone like Kerrim.”
You looked away again. “Please, we want to help,” Barbara urged.
“Nothing,” You said, voice cracking subtly for a second in your uncertainty.
“Nothing?” Barbara questioned.
“Nothing I know.” You said.
“What does that mean?” Barbara asked. She had a good idea what you meant. She was a genius, after all. But she wanted to hear it from your perspective.
“They don’t know anything,” Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood a boy with a dog next to him. “But they’re lying.” His gaze narrowed on you in a glare. And you returned that glare with a scowl.
“Damian?” Barbara questioned.
“You do know something,” He walked in, his hands in his pockets and the dog at his side. “You just won’t give it up.”
Everyone was silent for a beat.
“Or,” Damian spoke up through the silence, “You were taught not to.” Damian could see through you. “Am I right?” He raised a brow, the cocky smirk that looked to be an insanely good impersonation of Robin (crazy, right?). Your scowl only deepened. When Alfred came into the room with another tray of little sandwiches, you tried to push yourself farther into the armrest on the bed. Damian picked off one of the little sandwiches as he said, “Seems I am.” His gaze shifted towards Bruce, “Should I continue?” He asked arrogantly.
“I believe there is no need for that, Master Damian.” Alfred spoke as he placed the newly acquired tray of sandwiches on the bed and placed the ones from the other tray onto it and took the old tray. He diligently backed away from the bed and in turn, you. He didn’t wish to make this any more stressful for you than it already was.
“Alfred is right,” Bruce agreed.
“Bruce,” A boy with black hair peeked into the room, a laptop in his hands. “Could I speak with you,” he insinuated to talking away from this room.
“Yes,” Bruce said, looking at you. “Barbara, Alfred, stay with them.” He told the two. “Damian and Cassandra, come with us.”
The two obeyed, following him out of the room. But, the dog next to Damian's side stayed in the room instead of following him out. The big dog came to sit next to the chair Barbara was in.
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“Have you found something, Tim?” Bruce asked.
“A little,” the boy answered as he led the group back to the main computer he had been working at.
“And that is?” Damian raised a brow.
“I'd appreciate it if you kept the rude remarks to a minimum, thanks.” Tim sighed as he sat in the swivel chair and began to type away. “I couldn't find a lot.” Tim said.
“What did you find?” Bruce asked. He put a hand on the top of the chair and leaned into his other hand he rested on the edge of the desk.
“I tried looking for things based on her description and pictures first. Like missing persons reports or even any pictures that might have been taken out in the open. But I couldn't find anything,” Tim continued to type on the keyboard. “Then I looked for a birth certificate by putting in general information, but also couldn't find anything.”
“Get to the point.” Damian chimed in, getting impatient.
Cassandra had stood quiet, listening intently. Something about you she felt like she knew. She felt like she knew you. But she knew she didn't. She would probably recall meeting a young child adept at fighting that had electricity powers.
“Getting there,” Tim grumbled, finally pulling up a DNA Match screen. “Then, I had Alfred help grab something to use for a DNA match,” He cleared out the other screens in the way.
On the big computer screen was a picture displayed of you, and then one next to it. The picture next to the one of you was of Cassandra, much to Damian, her's, and Bruce's surprise. The words,
‘Closest Match’
were flashing on the screen.
“Now, the kid is obviously not in the database,” Tim pushed against the desk, turning the swivel chair to look at the three. “But they are related to Cass.”
Cass stood stunned, staring at the computer screen. Maybe there was a reasoning to why you were so familiar to her…
The four looking at the computer, Tim at the others, heard a sudden zap, then a few barks and yells. Everyone whipped to look at the door.
“Hey, hey, no!” Barbara's voice sounded from the room.
Not long at all afterward, you came out of the room as quickly as you could. Though you were significantly slower.
Bruce stepped forward, but he stopped when he caught your gaze. Your venomous gaze that would have sent shivers down anyone's spine who didn't deal with people like this a lot. But it caught Bruce off guard.
It wasn’t as much about the venom in your glare. It was what you reminded him of.
You reminded him of something like a stray animal. One that has been mistreated over the years, had to fight for food. Lost loved ones, been abandoned.
Your gaze traveled across everyone in the room.
“Don't!” You yelled when you saw Tim stand up. “Don't, come.. Come near!” You figured out your words. Tim and Cassandra shared a glance.
“Just..” You looked at Bruce quickly. “Calm down.” He kept his tone as soft as he could manage. He puts a hand out, tries to ease your emotions.
You finally noticed Damian. He had gotten closer without your realizing. Your reaction time has decreased with how exhausted you still were. You managed to back away from his hand in the nick of time.
“Damian no!” Cassandra yelled when she saw Damian about to punch at you.
Damian hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Cassandra momentarily. You took the opportunity to send a kick at him. He dodged. You started sending more attacks, all being significantly slower than they had been when you first ran into the vigilantes.
Damian only dodged your attacks, slowly backing away throughout the area. No one else intervened. It was all happening too quickly.
You were already charging up the electricity in your arm. It wrapped and flickered around your arm, quickly traveling down to your hand. You threw your hand out, sending the shot of electricity at Damian, but he ducked, effectively dodging it.
Your eyes felt heavy. Your own arm you had just used felt numb and tingly. Your legs shook, and your heart was racing. And you were falling..
Damian moved quickly, still in his crouch from ducking. He opened his arms and you fell into him, your head landing on his chest.
Damian put a hand around your shoulder, holding it firmly, making sure you wouldn't try to get up, but he already knew you couldn't with how weak you were.
And you weakly trying to push against him to get away from him only proved that.
“Get away,” you said, voice shaking. “Get. Get..” You weakly pushed. “Get away. Get away..” You sounded like a broken record. Voice continuously breaking, and also continuously repeating yourself. “Please.. Get away!” You cried.
“Calm down!” Damian told you.
“Away! Away! Away!” You continued to cry.
“Hey, I told you to calm down!” Damian kept his voice a firm but calm tone. “You're safe, no one will hurt you!” He glanced at the woman who had approached and crouched next to the two of you. You hadn't noticed her.
You hadn't noticed her until she was pulling you away from Damian’s arms and into her own.
“Shh,” Cassandra held you tightly in her arms against her chest, “It's okay,” she rested her forehead against your head.
“Get away!” Your voice grew louder, more desperate, more hysterical. “Get,” She shushed you again, “Get away..” Your voice was growing quieter. “Get away.” A mutter now.
She was.. Cassandra was warm, and.. You couldn’t understand anything that was happening. Too much is happening. This warmth was foreign. And the want to lean into her was foreign, and quite frankly an unwelcome feeling you didn't want in your body.
“It's okay,” She told you softly, “I have you.” She wasn't sure why she felt the need to protect you. To hold you tightly. To never let go. To always keep you safe.
Why did the words make your stomach tighten like they did? And your heart felt weird. Almost worrisome to you if you had the time to think of your heart of all things.
You tried to fight the way your eyes grew heavier. “Get away..” Your voice was quiet, shaky, and tired. “Get..” You breathed, “Get away..”
You were asleep…
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<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->
@redh00dsbf @02006
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murdockussy · 1 year
Note
Could you do an enemies to lovers one shot where obi has been in love with the reader for a while but she doesn’t know it?
And I wouldn’t mind some spice please hehe
AHHHH this request is perfect!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this one up, but I hope you enjoy reading it!!
(I am open to taking any requests, head to my masterlist to read more about it :))
Room 24
Angsty, smutty lil Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader enemies to lovers one shot where he fell for the reader first!
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Warnings: a little arguing here and there, but we love a jealous Kenobi moment
Words: 8,900ish
If you could gather every emotion you felt towards Obi Wan Kenobi, you were almost certain you’d be left with a burning heap of seething hot hatred – almost. 
Ever since your first interaction all those years ago, you - young and naïve, heart hammering in your chest as were introduced to your peers inside the Jedi Temple for the first time, and him – a lean short haired boy with platted stand of hair falling down his neck, disapproving stare watching your ever move as you were welcomed into the group of young Jedi’s– you knew that Obi Wan Kenobi was going to be anything but your friend. 
The more time you spent around him, the more you were able to register his arrogance. How he always stuck to his allegiance, leaving little room for mistakes. Before you, he was always top of the class, earning the position of one of the most skilled and wise Jedi’s for his age, but all that changed the day you arrived on Coruscant.  
Although you were slightly younger than your peers and were considerably inexperienced, you refused to let that stop you, you using your gifted skills to quickly climb to the top, soaring above those who’d been in the same field as you for far longer than you have.  
And that angered Obi Wan to no extent. The same Council members who once showered him with endless praise, bringing him alongside missions that were far out of the league of his peers, were now giving you – someone who just less than a year prior had no knowledge of what a Jedi even was – the same treatment. 
He couldn’t understand how you did it, and for that his hatred towards you grew. Sure, you were skilled, you could yield a lightsaber well, your aim with blasters was precise, and your bond with the force was as strong as his, but how you were able to achieve his level of expertise in the time you’d been there left him baffled.  
As the years passed, you grew to know each other quite well – you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You’d keep a close eye on him during missions, watching the muscles on his arms flex as he’d wave the glowing saber in defense, face stern and focused, and in return, he’d do the same, studying the patterns of your fighting style, the way your chest heaved as the loose strands of hair would cascade onto your face with each spin and duck.  
You both unraveled each other's perks and quirks and seen one another in the best and worst of times, yet no matter how well one of you knew the other, the hatred was always there, evident and unwavering, you both making it known to each other that hate was the only emotion you held for one another – nothing else. 
And it always remained that way... that was until Obi Wan came to the realisation that maybe his feelings were a masquerade for something much deeper 
On a night when the moons shone brightly above the Jedi Temple when half of the Council returned from an off-planet meeting, Obi Wans Padawan Anakin was solemnly waiting for his Master's return in their shared apartment when a sudden uproar caught his attention. He traced the shouting to the entrance of the room, opening the door of their living quarters to find his Master and yourself standing opposite one another, an angered expression mirrored on both of your faces. 
“... If you hadn’t been so selfish, I could’ve taken him out with ease” you shouted, one hand resting on your hip while the other poked at Kenobi’s chest. 
“With ease? I’m starting to believe your delusions have reached new heights, because from my memory, they had you tied up to a post, wi-” 
“But I got out! Freed myself! Something you would’ve seen if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to be the hero – again!” 
“There’s a difference between trying to be a hero, and actually being one, something you wouldn’t kno-” 
As amused as he was, Anakin stepped out of the doorway, yourself and Obi Wan falling silent once the Padawan made his presence known. Greeting yourself and his Master, he leant against the wall beside you both with a playful grin. 
“If you wish to continue, I'd suggest taking this indoors. People do want to get some sleep at night, believe it or not” 
Just as Obi Wan began to scold his Padawan, you interrupted, your feet dragging you backwards slowly as you spoke, “No need. It’s pointless trying to get through to him anyway. Goodnight, Anakin” 
Pushing past the young boy beside him, Obi Wan walked through the entrance of his home, his blood boiling as he stormed towards the loungeroom, seating himself on the couch as his head fell into the palms of his hands. 
Anakin wasn’t far behind, him resting on the arm of the opposite couch from the one Obi Wan was seated on, the amusement evident in his voice as he broke the silence. 
“Well... that was interesting” 
“Not now Anakin!” 
“Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong, Master. If anything, you should be thanking me. It really was quite the disturbance you both were causing out the-” 
“I said not now! I’ve had enough of this for tonight” 
“She really knows how to get under your skin, doesn’t she? I’m starting to think she’s worse than me” 
“Anakin” Obi Wan warned, his head lifting from his hands to stare at the boy before him. 
“You’re always together. Always arguing. And you both get so riled up with one another. It’s as if you’re... like you’re couple that’s been in a marriage for all your life” 
“I’m being quite serious Anakin, if you don-” 
“It seems as if you're so disapproving you are of her. Which is strange because she’s good at what she does. She’s a great Jedi. Maybe you’re just jealous of her-” 
“Anakin, that’s en-” 
“Or maybe you’re in love with her, that could be it too” Anakin joked, a snort of laughter escaping his lungs. 
Without saying another word, Obi Wan rose from his seat, brushing past the boy who had broken out in a fit of laughter, breathy apologies falling from his lips as he watched his Master disappear into his bedroom, where he wouldn’t appear from until the next morning. 
Yet that night, Obi Wan barely got a wink of sleep, his heart hammering endlessly in his chest as Anakin's words combined with ghostly images of you swirled around his thoughts, the realisation of the truth within Anakin's lighthearted words haunting him till the sun rose the next day.  
All this time Obi Wan was wrong. His deep-rooted obsession with you, his need to watch you whenever you’re within his vision, his desire to hear the rise of your voice when he pushes your buttons - he buttons only he knew how to push – wasn’t from a place of hatred. No, it was from a place of love. All this time he’d loved someone he swore to be his own personal enemy. 
Yet, he refused to cave into his emotions. Keeping the guarded front of hatred up whenever you were near.  
He repeatedly told himself it was because loving someone was against the Jedi code. That if he followed the true desires of his heart, everything he worked so hard for would be torn from him instantly. He’d have no purpose, no guidance, no home. And for that, resenting you somehow became easier, because he wouldn’t allow you to take that all away from him. But deep down, in a place he struggled to keep hidden, he was terrified of your true emotions, that if you were to reveal his true desire for you, you’d reject him, using his one weakness – his emotions for you - against him.  
And for that, he kept up the false front, his behavior towards you unwavering, because hating you was far easier than loving you.  
However, sometimes he didn’t have to continuously remind himself of that fact, Anakin's suggestion of you getting under his skin an obvious truth as he lost sight of you, his vision darting in each direction as he spun himself in a full 360 in the middle of the busy pathway. 
Obi Wan and yourself were currently paired together on an assignment, one that could've been easily palmed off to Kenobi and his Padawan if it wasn’t for the younger boy being in recovery after having himself injured on their last mission. 
The goal for the assignment was simple. There had been rumors floating around the temple of an underground club storing illegal weapons, which itself wouldn’t be an issue because as far as you were aware, half the clubs on Coruscant held their own illegal weapons, but once word spread that a group of bounty hunters were seeking to purchase the weapons, the Council decided to step in, hence yourself and Obi Wan being sent on the mission.  
And it seemed simple. Disguise yourself as anything other than a pair of Jedi, go into the club, seek out the location of the stored weaponry, alert the Counsil of its whereabouts, and leave. Easy. The entire assignment could be finished in under an hour. Yet the moment you dressed yourself in the disguised outfit, you slipping into the thin fabric of the floor length black dress, you decided you wanted to make the most of the night out, allowing yourself to have a bit more fun than the Council would’ve intended you on having. 
Obi Wan spun himself to the brink of dizziness when he finally paused, his eyes landing on your open back dress facing away from him as you stood at the entrance of a stall, you passing the man a handful of credits in exchange for the wide scarf. 
Groaning in annoyance, Obi Wan weaved his way through the crowded night market, him overhearing your thanks to the shop keep as he finally reached you, you turning to face him right as he approached you. 
“A scarf?” he questioned, his eyes lingering on your face as he took in your amused expression. 
“I needed it” you replied, pushing past his tense frame as you began walking into the crowd once more. He watched as you slid the fabric across your arms, the width of it draping down your spine covering majority of your back, leaving a small slither of your skin exposed at the base of your dress, his eyes locked onto your flesh as you wandered off before it clicked that you were wandering off, him quickly jogging to catch up with you. 
“You know” he huffed, “we do have an assignment to complete” 
“And tell me, do we have a specific time frame required to complete this mission?” 
“...No, however it wou-” 
“No time frame means no need to rush” you said with raised eyebrows as you turned to look at Obi Wan, his eyes squinting as he faced forwards. 
“I think it would be rather beneficial to get this over and done with” 
“Why? Have you got somewhere better to be, Kenobi?” 
“Well, no. But I'd pref-” 
“Then we can take as long as we need. Besides, how often is it that we get to leisure like this out of the Temple? Well, I can only speak on my own behalf. I don’t care for whatever slacking off you do in your free time” 
“I do not ‘slack off’. Unlike some people, I take my role seriously” 
“If I didn’t take my role seriously, they wouldn’t have chosen me to be on this assignment, would’ve they?” 
“Only because Anakin's not here” Obi Wan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, causing an angry warmth beneath your skin to flare up, your face snapping to meet the man beside yours once more. 
“And why isn’t your Padawan here? Maybe if his Master knew know how to provide adequate guidance, he wouldn’t have to resort to the medical bay once a week!” 
Obi Wan ignored your verbal jab, his eyes glancing at the rows of stalls as you both continued through the market, triumph slowly building inside you at his lack of a comeback until he redirected his walk to cut directly in front of you, his words a whisper as he passed your frame. 
“Say’s the Jedi without their own Padawan” 
“Hey!” you called, his feet quickening due to the clearing of the crowds as he headed towards the markets exit. Fastening your own pace, you caught up with him, prepared to argue back to his statement before he hushed you, his movements coming to a halt. 
“That's our destination. Master Yoda believes the weapons are stored on-” 
“The first or second floor beneath the club. I know. Might I remind you, I'm also on the Council” you stated, your shoulder bumping his as you passed him and began to draw closer to the entrance of the building when you felt a firm grasp around your wrist, stopping you from any further movements. 
“Don’t you... Wouldn’t it be best to think of a plan before walking in there?” 
“We already have a plan” You sighed in annoyance, you now facing him while his fingers remained wrapped around your skin. 
“But what if were questioned?” 
“We won’t be” 
“We need to be on the same page if they questio-” 
“We won’t be” 
“If we get caught, and you begin some-” 
“Kenobi! I’m telling you we will not be caught! Can you just trust me for once?!” 
His eyes widened in shock, his raised eyebrows furrowing after a moment's silence, a burst of air leaving his nostrils as he did a firm nod, his hand falling from yours as he crossed his arms across his chest. 
 “Fine... But if a single thing goes south-” he started, you huffing as you turned your back to him and marched towards the entrance of the club, Obi Wan following you behind as you neared the tinted glass doors reflecting the neon flashing signs of the streets above. 
Approaching the entrance, the two doors slide open, revealing the dim lights and bassy instrumental echoing within the club. You scanned the room as you entered it, your nose scrunching at the faded colored curtains draping across each wall and the clouds of thin smoke wafting across the roof, your eyes falling on the grim looking creature perched behind the reception desk.  
You slowed your pace until Obi Wan was standing beside you when you suddenly slid your arm beneath his, your arms interlocked drawing you closer to one another as you inched towards the reception desk. You could feel his confused gaze burning into the side of your face, but you ignored it, your face remaining emotionless as you approached the creature at the desk. 
“Reservation for 4-16" you spoke clearly, Obi Wans eyes now bouncing between yours and the creatures. 
“Name?” the being mumbled, his hands gliding across the vibrant hologram raised on the surface of the desk. 
“Waters” you replied, your voice stern as you watched his fingers dance across the glitchy lights, him tapping a few times before humming in approval, his bulging eyes returning to yours as he spoke. 
“You’re cleared. Pleasure to have you back, Miss Waters” 
Without looking back, you directed Obi Wan into the club, the two of you heading towards the row of ceiling high booth without saying a word. Unlinking your arm from his, you shimmied yourself into the booth, Obi Wan following behind you, seating himself a foot away from you. 
“Care to explain?” 
“I told you to trust me” you said unphased as you flattered out the fabric across your stomach. 
“Who is Miss Waters?” he pushed, him continuing to glare at you, you picking up on the sense that he wouldn't drop this topic without answers. 
“A fake name, clearly” you answered shortly, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man next to you who was growing more agitated by the minute, you jumping in your seat at the sudden sensation of his hand on your knee. 
“This is a shared mission! I’m required to know what you’re doing, so if need be, I can be in on whatever this is as well” 
Your head snapped to face him, your voice low yet firm as you quickly replied. 
“For the last time, I told you to trust me! And if you don’t, there’s no use for you being here. You know where the door is, or do you need help finding it?” 
Before he had the chance to reply, both of your heads turned to face the slim figure that was approaching your booth with a friendly smile, you forcing your cheeks to rise as you mirrored their joyous emotion. 
“Miss Waters, it’s been quite some time! How has life been treating you?” 
“Same old, you know how it is. And you?” 
“Busy. But it’s good to see a familiar face” he said, bending slightly to place a tray of assorted fruits and four glasses of a smokey green liquid on the table. 
“Oh... Grolo, this really isn’t necessary for tonight” 
“Nonsense, it’s on the house” Grolo replied before stepping backwards, his hands crossing as he nodded while speaking, “Room 24 is prepared to your liking for when you’re ready. You two enjoy your evening” 
You waited until Grolo disappeared from your eyesight before you raised your palms to your face, your heart beginning to beat slightly quicker from the conversation, you truly wanting to remain unexposed from the man beside you. 
“So... Familiar face, huh?” 
“Kenobi” you warned, you shielding your eyes from the world around you with your palms, Obi Wans own palm still resting on your knee. 
“And what’s this ‘room 24’?” 
“None of your business, that’s what it is” 
“But it will be... once the Council is notified about the cheat that is lying under their noses” 
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a sudden anger sparking inside you as you dropped your hands, your body shifting to face the man beside you. 
“If you even think about speaking a word of this to them, I'll shatter each glass on this table and force it down your throat!” 
Leaning back against the fabric of the booth, he brought one hand to his beard, scaping it slowly as he watched you, while the other slid an inch up your skin, unwavering from its position as he pushed, “Then confess whatever it is that you’re hiding about this place, what you’re hiding about yourself” 
You wanted to call him out on his bluff, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t speak a word of what he’s already witnessed to the Council – wanted to trust him – yet you knew you couldn’t, you fully aware of his devotion to his job. So you leaned forward, grabbing two of the four drinks in front of you and bringing them to your lips, you shotting one after another like the liquid had no burning aftertaste, you in desperate need of any confidence boost for what you’re about to tell the man you resented the most. 
“Fuck. Fine. This...” you started, pausing momentarily with hesitation, Obi Wans eyes lingering on your face as you sighed, “This all began quite some time ago now.”, 
“Master Yoda caught word of a potential bounty passing though this area of Coruscant every few nights. He knew it was too risky himself to check the area out, so he sent me”, 
“His intentions were to get any information on the man. If the potential bounty belonged to a gang, if he had a following, who he was involved with. I came here, unsure if the bounty would even step foot in this place, with no indication on how to secure the information Yoda wanted” 
“And the mission was successful?” Kenobi asked, his hand still raking through the hairs on his chin. 
You nodded, swallowing the nerves building inside your tightening throat from what you were confessing for the first time. 
“Call it intuition, or even the Force, but he ended up coming here. I sparked a conversation, and he fell right into my trap. I knew it was too risky to use any of my... Force abilities. So I tried something else, and it worked after some time. He told me what I needed to know, and I reported it all-” 
“What was it?” 
“What was what?” 
“Your method. Possibly spiking of his drink? I wouldn’t put that past you-” 
“Seduction, actually” you spat, your features lifting with your matter-of-fact tone while his jumped in shock, a small cough escaping his mouth as he suddenly leaned forward, the hand that was resting on your leg now shooting across the table to grab ahold of one of the remaining drinks. 
“Seeing how successful it was” you continued, a half smiling tugging at your lips from the surprise your statement caused, “I decided to come back and try it again on a different occasion. And that’s how it started. The more I came here, the more potential threats would walk through those doors – Grolo’s bar being sort of a... hot spot, I guess, for people who want to remain unseen. I’d buy each one a drink here and there, enough for them to lose track of what they’re saying, sweet talk them the way a man like them would want to be spoken to, and suddenly the information I'd want would pour out of them. Easily” 
“But why do it if it wasn’t necessary?” 
“Because it kept me one step ahead. I attained information no other Council member had. Their confessions helped me out on multiple missions. I know who's connected to who, and who to avoid, where these people stay, what threats they pose. Besides, you and I both know how slowly the Council can move at times. I’ve just pushed myself to have a head start” 
“So you’d... seduce these... men into giving you information, out of your own will?” 
“Yes, Kenobi. I did” you said, your eyes switching from his face to the single drink remaining, you leaning forwards to grab it, your pulse jumping as you pretending to ignore the way Obi Wans eyes watched your moving frame, “But nothing I've done is against the Jedi code, nor is it a crime” 
“Not yet. You’re yet to inform me about this ‘room 24’” 
You remained silent as you rested back into the seat, you bringing the drink to your lips as your eyes lingered on Obi Wans, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought of you sharing your deepest secret to the man you’d wish to keep your secret from most. 
“Or you can tell the rest of the Council themselves, I'm sure they’d love to know” he said, his tone flat as he slowly began shuffling himself out of the booth, you immediately snapping your hand to wrap around his forearm stopping him in his tracks. 
“Don’t! Just... Believe me, Obi Wan, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be” 
“And why should I have faith in your words? You can’t even tell me what is that you’re hiding, how can I trust that!” 
“Okay... Just sit, please” 
With a small huff, he returned to his previous position, spinning himself around to face the bar behind him, arm waving towards the empty tray on the table before adjusting himself to face you once more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he did so. 
“If you’re going to make me stay, I might as well make it worth my while” he said coolly as one of the bartenders approached the booth with a full tray of drinks, swiftly placing it on the table, replacing the now empty one. He reached forward, his body barely lifting from the back of the seat as he grabbed the glass, his eyes looking deeply into yours as he took a sip causing the pits of your stomach to ignite with warmth. “Now finish the story, or I'm leaving. Don’t make me regret this decision” he said, following with your name at the end of the sentence. 
You wanted to push him, tease him about how precious the Council was to him, but you bit your tongue as you drowned the rest of your drink fully knowing there was no way out of the hole you unwillingly dug yourself in.  
Here goes nothing. 
“I was here every few weeks, doing the same routine. But... one night, things sort of changed. This scoundrel from Coruscant's south, no matter how hard I pushed, he gave no information on what I wanted to know. At first, I was in control, but the more we consumed, the more I... drifted from my purpose. Things started to take a turn, and... well, one thing led to another, and we... you know. I didn’t end up getting the information I wanted out of him, so when I came back, I tried again with someone who had connections to the scoundrel, but I was met with the same fate. After that, my purpose for coming to this side of town had a... different meaning” 
As the words left your lips, Obi Wans entire demeaner shifted, his relaxed composure becoming stiff, his jaw locked with tension as his eyes glared at you, a pit of rage boiling within him at your confession. Yet he kept himself together, trying to attain his burning jealousy as you continued your story. 
“Grolo, whenever I'd return, he’d allow me to stay in a room here with these... people. Room 24. He had trust in me, because I'd brought in good revenue for him with all my previous assignments, and he refused each man from leaving the next morning without covering the bill for the night's stay. We build sort of an understanding, a bond – myself and Grolo. I supplied him with customers, he supplied me with a free room” 
Concluding your confession, you released the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back, you shotting the remainder of your drink before speaking once more, “That's all it is, Obi Wan. I’m not a criminal, or a cheat to the Council, so you can drop the need you so desperately have to inform the Council of any of this” 
You both sat in a momentary silence, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for any sort of response from Kenobi, his silence out of character. Yet your pulse was met with a match, Obi Wan feeling as though his own heart was bound to leap out of his chest any moment due to the spiraling anger within him. Images began to play in his mind of the story you shared, flashes of your naked frame entangled with another - someone who wasn’t him - blinding his vision entirely, him taking no note of the rattling glass in his hand until the soft call of his named tore him from his thoughts. 
“... Obi Wan?” you mumbled, your hand reaching out towards him, your fingers barely grazing his skin before he pulled back, his voice a sharp slice as he spat his words. 
“You’re unbelievable!” 
“I’m sorry?” you questioned, your already hammering heart going into overdrive from his outburst. 
“Are you in some state of delusion? You’d be foolish to believe any of this is okay” 
"What are you... I told you I've done noth-” 
“There's something in this lifestyle you’re hiding amongst that you truly desire. These relations, you want them more than you’re allowing yourself to believe. You’ve gone against me-… Against the Jedi Code. I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly, I was wrong about you” 
Absorbing his belittlement, your shock was quickly switched to anger, you hurt that he was speaking to you this way after you opened to him for the first time about something nobody else knew, something that you would’ve never had spoken on if it wasn’t for his threats in the first place. 
“Don’t try and act as though you’re innocent, Obi Wan, like you’ve never had some fun before. We all remember whatever it was that happened between yourself and Dutchess Satine!” The Dutchess’s name on your tongue left a sour after taste, a quick flash of memories passing through your mind as you spoke, images of Obi Wan watching the woman fondly, her arm entwined with his and they walked together, the memory so bitter in your mind that it only added fuel to your already wild flame. 
“What you’re doing is incomparable to that. It was a moment of clouded judgement, of weakness. It was a half-whited act, but nowhere near as close to what you’ve been doing” 
“My business is different!” The alcohol you’d consumed began to take full effect, you unaware of just how loud you were both shouting at one another until you noticed the turning of heads surrounding the booth, various eyes falling on yourself and Obi Wan. 
“And how is that?!” 
“You formed an attachment, I didn’t! You got entangled with emotions, I'm only after momentary fulfillment!” 
“You are surely blinded! This is outrag-” 
You weren’t sure what pushed you over the edge – possibly the heat flushed against your cheeks or the tears beginning to well behind your eyes - but you finally got fed up with the ongoing argument, you swiftly rising from the seat, your body swaying slightly as you shuffled yourself towards the exit of the booth.  
Before you had the chance to walk off, you felt a forceful grip suddenly wrap around your wrist, his soft plea for you to stop barely audible as you cut him off immediately, snatching your arm from his as you spat back, “Don’t!” 
Shocked expressions were blurred around you as you stormed off, the effort of not allowing your hot tears to spill over blocking out the calling pleas of your name from behind you. You repeatedly attempted deep breaths as you pushed your way around passing creatures, your shaky hands a direct result of the alcohol and adrenaline cocktail flowing through your bloodstream. 
Muscle memory navigated you through the various hallways leading you towards the back rooms, your fingers dancing along the keypad of the door you knew too well, a small flash of green blinking before the door unlocked, you pushing the steel frame open. Immediately you were welcomed with dim lighting, the smell of vanilla wafting through your nose as you waved your hands towards your face, your palms cuffing your eyes as you exhaled sharply. 
For a few quiet moments, you stayed in that position, the fire inside you putting up a continuous fight towards your attempt of calming yourself, you completely unaware of the presence that had joined you in the room until you heard the thunder of the steel door forcefully closing behind you causing you to rapidly twirl in shock, your hands ripping from your eyes as they connected with the blue eyes glairing back at you. 
You watched each other in silence, the anger within you sparking up at the sight of him, your previous attempts at becoming calmer thrown out the window within seconds. As his eyes scanned your frame, his somewhat stiff stance loosened, his eyes softening as he absorbed your upset state. His mouth opened to speak, but before he had the chance to mutter a single syllable, your words silenced his, the sentences freely falling from your lips. 
“When all this began, for the first time in my life, I felt as if I was lifted from any burden. Weightless from all responsibilities. No rules, no restrictions, no Council or Jedis. Do you know how freeing that felt? To be nothing but a girl having some fun with a stranger at a bar? It was like being able to breathe again for the first time!” 
He listened to each word you spoke, his mouth remaining shut as he stepped towards you, you moving yourself in the opposite direction as he did so. 
“It was harmless fun Kenobi! Believe it or not, I really don’t care, but that’s all it was! And if you’re so opposed by it, go ahead and tell the Council!!” 
“No” he mumbled flatly, his eyes never leaving yours as his head shook, his body moving another step closer to yours. 
“Why not?!” you shouted, the back of your knees finally hitting the edge of the bed as you backed away from his approaching body, “Maybe they’ll believe you, banish me from the temple. You’ll be able to reign free, the great General Kenobi at the peak of his game!” 
“No” he repeated, this time louder as he began to close in on you, a warm puddle forming in the pit of your stomach as you noticed a glimmer of crazy in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 
“Thats what you’ve strived for all these years, isn’t it? The moment I stepped foot in that temple you wanted me out of there! Nows your chance! I know this is what you want to do, so just do it!” 
Within the blink of an eye, his arms extended in front of him, his warm palms landing on your waist as he pulled you towards him, your chest slamming into his, your breath knocked from your lungs at the contact. His head tilted down to meet yours, one arm removing itself from your waist only to place itself on your chin, his fingers pinching your skin as he directed your head to face his. 
“You have no idea what I want!” 
The small blow of his breath drifted across your open lips, the sensation sending a wave of tingles down your spine, a pool of warmth forming between your weekend legs as his angered eyes peered into your own. 
“You think having you removed from the council is what I desire? To not have you within reach, have you out of my eyesight for even a single second? I would rather take a blade to the skull than to have you out of my life, leaving me miserable while you’re out there being fulfilled by some low life stranger who doesn’t even know your real name” 
As the last sentence left his lips, he pulled your body as close as possible, your heart fluttering as you breathily gasped, his following words causing you to almost fall to your knees as he whispered them onto your flushed skin, “They could never do what needs to be done with you. You don’t even know what real fulfillment is” 
Lifting your head, his fingers still attached to your skin, you inched your face towards him, you pausing at the soft touch of his lips brushing yours, your words vibrating the curve of his bottom lip as you whispered, “...Then why don’t you show me?” 
The breath was knocked from your lungs once more as your frame was suddenly pushed backwards, you collapsing onto the mattress with force, Obi Wans body close behind you as he softly landed on top of you. Leaving no time to waste, he spread his knees to rest on the outsides of your thighs, his hands grabbing at your waist once more as he shuffled you towards the top of the mattress, your body effortlessly tossed towards the soft pillows.  
Barely able to settle from his rapid moving of your body, he crawled his way back on top of you, his lips immediately connecting with the base of your jaw causing an audible sigh to clear from your lungs. 
“You have no idea...” he started, each word interrupted by a sloppy kiss as he worked his way down your neck, “how deeply I've wanted... how deeply I've... needed you” 
His confession made your mind swirl, your hands instinctively gripping at his clothing, trembling fingers unbuttoning and tugging the fabric away from his torso as he roughly worked his mouth across your skin. With each suck and nip, your breaths drew deeper which only seemed to encourage him more. 
“For countless years... my every waking moment” he breathed, his hips connecting to meet with yours, you noticing the stiffness between his legs for the first time causing you to groan, “... has been consumed with thoughts of you” 
His upper body now rid of clothes, you suddenly felt extremely warm in your own clothing, your head tossing to the side as you struggled to free your arms from the twisted scarf clinging to them. Noticing your movements, Obi Wan withdrew himself from your neck, his movements twice as fast as he assisted in removing your scarf, him balling the item up and tossing it behind him, you taking the small moment to focus on his lips, the skin dark and plump, the wetness glazed across the his lips giving you the urge to connect your own with his. 
Returning to face you, his eyes caught sight of your gaze, his heart skipping a beat when you made contact with him. Your flushed cheeks and darked pupils almost sent him into a complete frenzy, but the small pull of your soft smile drew him back into reality, him needing to clear any doubts before continuing, his one arm keeping him hovered above you while the other stroked a strand of hair from your cheek. 
“If... if this isn’t what you want, we can st-” 
Unable to wait a moment longer, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into you as you pushed your lips onto his. The moment you made contact, pure euphoria spread itself through each nerve in Obi Wans body, him kissing you back twice as hard as his heart leaped in his chest. Finally, he thought. 
You pulled back slightly, your attempt to speak cut short as Obi Wan eagerly chased your lips, him deepening the kiss the moment his skin met yours, not wanting to spend another second away from your lips.  
You allowed him to take you in, his lips dancing along with yours as his hips began to slowly grind onto you, your soft sigh tumbling into his mouth causing him to kiss you deeper. 
“Obi” you mumbled, him humming in reply, completely engulfed by bliss, his lips never leaving yours.  
“Obi Wan” you repeated, this time louder as you pulled away from him with a small laugh. 
As much as you were enjoying the sensation of his lips on yours, the ever-growing pulse between your legs was growing stronger with every passing moment, and you were on the edge of becoming desperate.  
“What is it?” Kenobi questioned, his eyes clouding with doubt as he scanned your face, your delicate hand now combing back his long hair welcoming him with immediate reassurance. 
“I need you...” Your simple worlds caused the man to completely crumble, the sentence one he’d dreamt of for countless years, certain he’d never have the pleasure of being on the receiving end when you said it. Yet there he was, laying on top of the woman he loved, the worlds a looping constant in his mind as he watched you. “... Please” 
As if sprung back to life from the dead, he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer, his hands frantic as they reached around to the back of your neck, unfastening your dress and peeling the fabric from your upper body and down to your hips, you shuffling on the mattress, assisting him in any way you could. Pulling the material down your legs, he used one hand to toss it behind him, the other tugging the shoes from your feet before he did the same to himself, ridding him of his pants and footwear before returning his attention to you. 
Stoll hovering above you, he spends a small moment ogling at your naked torso, the way your sprawled hair and tinted cheeks complemented your exposed skin. He was certain he was in the presence of an angel, wishing he could freeze the sight of you before him and stare at it for eternity, yet the harness between his legs prevented him from doing otherwise, him lowering himself to your chest. 
His hands roamed freely across your skin, the sensation of his drifting fingers leaving your hairs standing on edge as his mouth now worked itself across your shoulder blades, each hot kiss leaving a trail of wetness behind. 
Even though you had no intention of staying quiet, small sighs and groans fell freely into the air, each one growing louder as Obi Wan worked his way down your body, him coming to a standstill as his mouth reached your breast. 
His mouth occupied with one, his hand now toying with the other, your breathing grew heavier in pleasure, only spiraling the frenzy that burned inside Obi Wan.  
“Oh my... oh my god” you breathed, your hands shifting between the back of his shoulder blades and the strands of his hair. 
“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled dreamily, his mouth and hands switching positions as he worked himself across to your right breast, his hand now kneading your left. 
Although you were coursing with pleasure, you still needed more, you growing impatient with his slow teasing.  
“Obi Wan, I...” 
“Yes, my darling?” 
“I need more” 
“More?” he teased, his head lifting from your chest and snaking its way to your neck, him now trailing a row of small pecks to your ear, pausing to whisper, “Tell me what you want” 
“Your hands. Please, Obi” 
An exhale of laughter blew into your ear, Obi Wans mouth finding your own as his hand snaked its way down your body, his hand slightly trembling as it reached the lining of your underwear. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, your lips mashing with his as your hips lifted in reflex to the touch, pushing him to continue. 
As his fingers dug beneath the fabric, you released a rumbly moan into his mouth, the sound causing him to eagerly press further, the pads of his fingers collecting wetness as he explored. Your sounds of pleasure grew more rapidly as his fingers moved, him finding your bundle of nerves with ease causing you to cry out and press up onto his hand, a smirk forming on his face as you did so. 
Both your palms now held his cheeks, keeping his lips pressed against yours as his hand worked on your below, a rhythm forming in his movements causing a buildup to form within you, a pressure initiating in your core.  
Keeping his thumb on your bud, his index and middle finger explored lower, pausing at your opening.  
“Is this what you desire?” he asked between kisses, his voice low and rough. You nodded in agreement, your eyes shut in bliss as his thumb continued its movements. 
“You words. I need your words” 
“Yes!” you cried desperately into his mouth, a sigh leaving both of your lips as his fingers entered you.  
His movements started slow, him taking in each new feeling as his fingers slowly worked in and out, but it wasn’t until he felt the connection of your hip meeting his hands that he allowed himself to speed up, your continuous moans on his lips reassurance that you were enjoying yourself. It wasn’t long before the tension within you began rapidly building to new heights, the two of you breathing deeply into one another. 
“Obi...” you moaned, your mouth detaching from him, bottom lip falling slack as your skin began to tingle with pleasure, “I’m... I'm close” 
His movements stayed steady, your hands beginning to shake as you drew closer to your release until everything suddenly stopped, his fingers inside you now a ghostly presence as he removed his hands from beneath your underwear, bringing them to his own, him pulling the fabric down as you gaped at him in disbelief of what he’d just done. 
“Why did you st-”  
Your questioning was interrupted with a firm, sloppy kiss, you jumping at the return of his hands as they fell on the side of your leg, grabbing the fabric of the only remaining piece of clothing on your body before tugging them down your thighs. 
“I need to feel you, now” he said as he leant back on his knees, readjusting to both of you around so that his legs were between yours, your legs bent and thighs spread as he lowered himself, his body straight as he hovered above you once more. His free hand grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your core, his eyes peering up at you as he did so. 
“Are you s-” 
“Obi” you groaned in annoyance, your body still tingling from his edging just before. 
“I need you to be sure” he said back with a competitive tone, yet the small smile on his face revealed anything but anger. 
“I want you Obi Wan. Right now. Please” 
With your green light, he thrusted his hip towards you, your entrance welcoming his tip as he lowered himself into you, the sounds leaving both of your mouths a cocktail of pure pleasure. He moved slowly, wanting to prevent causing you any discomfort but also needing to savor the feeling. This really is heaven, he thought. 
Dragging himself in and out, he refused to pick up his pace until you granted him to do so, a wave of excitement spreading through him as your hips began to meet his. He entered you with more force, hip colliding with yours as he rocked into you, causing you to cry out in satisfaction. 
“Faster” you mumbled, your head falling sideways as he began to move more vigorously. 
“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear your words. 
“Please, faster, Obi Wan!” you cried. 
His speed doubled as he worked into you, both of your bodies rocking in sync as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lingering pecks growing sloppier as he the time passed, vocal groans and heavy puffs rumbling against your now tender skin. 
The familiar building began to form within the pits of your stomach once more, your hands reaching out to claw at the exposed skin of Kenobi's back as you breathlessly moaned, “Fuck... You’re so good” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mmmh hmmm” you nodded, his lips snaking their way down to your chest once more before returning to your face, his forehead resting on yours as his wild eyes peered down into yours. 
“No other scum can please you the way I can” he groaned somewhat angrily, his lips pressing onto yours forcefully as his thrusting hardened causing a cry to crawl itself out from your throat, “Only I can... God, only I can have you like this. Tell me only I make you feel this good” 
“Obi Wan!” you called, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the ache in your core drew closer to release. 
“I said tell me!” he paused, his hand snaking its way down to your thigh, gripping the skin and hiking your leg up beside him causing his thrusts to fall deeper inside you. 
“It’s only you, Obi- Oh my... Only you make me feel this good!” 
“That’s right...” he cooed, placing a kiss to your swollen lips as his forehead returned to yours, his eyes lapping up the visual pleasure displaced across your face.  
Your cries both messy and loud, your hands began to shake once more as you were now on the edge of your release, Obi Wans own pent up tension a reflection of yours as he bucked into you. 
“I’m... I’m...” you stuttered, your hands frantic on his skin as his breath fanned your face, you unable to finish your sentence as his mouth returned to yours for a final time, his free hand gripping your skin tightly as you reached your peaks, you crying out inaudible appraisals as you came undone, your nails digging into Obi Wans flushed skin as he rocked into you, his release directly chasing yours, his loud moans echoing in your ears.  
You rode the wave of your highs together, his hips continuing to rock into yours as he emptied himself inside of you, his mind a haze of complete bliss as you held him, your rocky breaths across his skin sending shivers down his spine. 
You stayed like that for what you wished could be an eternity, basking in the euphoria that coursed through your veins as you both relaxed into one another, you gasping as Obi Wan removed himself from your warm walls before plummeting onto your frame, your skin to skin contact an immediate warming comfort.  
Catching your breaths, your hand raked the skin on his back, your palms soothing the red scratches you created just moments before as he delicately placed fluttery kisses on your already bruising collarbones. Neither of you had spoken a word, you both basking in the moment, absorbing the affections you were gifting to one another before Obi Wans head rose from your chest, his eyes slightly glassy as he drew in your attention. 
“As cathartic as that was... we do have an assignment to complete” he joked, the hair on his chin tickling the skin on your chest as it bounced with laughter, you tossing your head back with a groan before peeking down at him once more, his wide smile a reflection of your own. 
“I hate you, Kenobi” you teased, your hands snaking their way up through his hair, your fingers pausing to give a section of strands a slight tug as you spoke causing his smile to widen. 
“My darling, I hate you more than you’ll ever know” 
2K notes · View notes
augustjustice · 11 months
Text
Pretty in Pink
AO3 Link
I am still firmly on my Stevie Harrington agenda this week, so please enjoy below Eddie's thirsty-turned-sappy thoughts about his favorite girl, inspired by @getlost0p's absolutely delightful art as well @cherrycolasteve's very cute tags.
Eddie taps the pen against his front teeth absently, eyes flitting uncomprehendingly over the various multiple choice options of his practice test. With his brain already feeling fuzzy and unfocused, it’s easy to let his gaze drift away from the page over to the girl currently sprawled out beside him–Stevie Harrington, curled up reading the X-Men comic Dustin had strong-armed her into picking up. 
And, look–who could really blame him for getting a little distracted? There's a hot girl in his bed which is, admittedly, a rare enough occurrence–until shit went sideways last spring, at least–to still feel a little notable. Even if she is only there for moral support while he studies, his GED test date circling ever closer.
Stevie's wearing a striped white and pink polo with the buttons undone all the way to the bottom of the neckline and tight stonewash jeans. The absolute preppiest of prep attire, completed by the cherry-flavored chapstick shining red on her lips.
Eddie wants to kiss her stupid.
The jeans are high waisted, pulled up snug over the curve of her ass, and with Stevie rolled onto her stomach reading the comic, Eddie's getting quite the view.
Then she shifts, flopping over onto her back beside him, the movement followed by the sound of pages turning. The new position offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, a further hint of what her clingy polo is doing such a great job of highlighting. 
Eddie looks. Of course he looks.
Estrogen has taken to Stevie’s figure like a duck to water. In the plush spread of her hips, making her pert ass even rounder, which Eddie would have thought was damn near impossible. And in the plumpness steadily gathering at her chest, her once defined pecs softening, giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts, which grow fuller by the day. 
It’s become something of a problem for him lately–the staring. 
That was true, to some extent, even before she started to transition. Stevie's always been gorgeous, and Eddie's always been aware of that fact, harboring a hopeless, from afar crush on her since they landed in the same impossible English class his first senior year and Eddie had become painfully aware of what all the Hawkins High girls were on about. Not that he would have admitted that, at the time, not even under threat of painful, agonizing death–no, the coming terms with it came later, during his spring break from hell spent realizing that Stevie Harrington was not only surprisingly sweet but a totally badass, bonafide hero.
…The whole ripping that bat apart with her teeth thing certainly didn't hurt, either.
The point is, he's always looked at Stevie, flirted with her. Probably been too obvious about it, too. 
It's just that since she started to transition, it feels like he's gotten so much worse, like any subtlety he was holding on to by his fingernails has been ripped from his hands. Eddie can’t stop staring at her, the heat of embarrassment prickling his face, tongue-tied like a school boy with a crush each and every time he gets caught. 
And that's the worst part of it–he does get caught, far more often than he'd like.
It’d been months, now, since the first time Stevie explicitly called him out for it–a warm Saturday in the summer when they had dragged the kids down to the arcade, trying to beat the heat with the dark, air-conditioned interior of the local nerd haunt. 
Stevie had been watching Erica beat her own high score at Duck Hunt, leaned over the machine in her Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and a cropped pink jersey, ponytail swinging against her back and the scars littering her sides unashamedly on display. That’s something they had both been working themselves up to, together–not hiding their war wounds, fighting off the anxiety that came from people’s stares.
But Eddie had been staring for an entirely different reason when Stevie caught him. 
As Erica ran off to ‘pummel’ Dustin after his latest Dig Dug win, Stevie propped an elbow on the abandoned game, shooting Eddie a knowing look.
“Like what you see, Munson?” she asked coyly.
Eddie’s entire face flamed with heat. 
“I was just–your top!” he blurted. “I was just admiring your top, my lady. It’s…it’s cute. The pink–think that might be your color, Harrington.”
Stevie’s cheeks burned her own pretty pink to match it, then, which Eddie couldn’t help but preen about. 
And if he noticed she started wearing a lot more pink around him after that, well…he tried not to read too much into it.
Just like the pretty pale pink she’s wearing today, attracting his eye and forcing Eddie to hold back a twitterpated sigh as he watches her, wrapped up in the bright primary colored pages of the X-Men
…This bullshit of his is definitely gonna get his ass kicked by Robin or Nancy, one of these days, he’s sure of it. Possibly both of them at once–Buck may just hold him down while Wheeler does what she does best.
But the truth is, it's not just about how Stevie’s figure has steadily filled out. He's not gonna lie, that's definitely part of it–but also…she just has this glow about her, now, like she's settling so happily into herself. It’s like that contentment beams out of her, radiant, in every little gesture, every giddy smile. He's drawn in by it, like Icarus with the sun, like a moth to a flame–too entranced to turn away, even if it might end up burning him in the long run.
The thing is, Stevie's beautiful, and she takes his breath away.
She’s become such an intrinsic part of his life, since everything that happened, he’s not entirely sure what he would do without her. Hell, they still share a bed, some nights–fighting back the nightmares together is always easier. And in the intervening months since that started, she's grown steadily softer beside him, curves pressing against his body where there were once hard planes and sharper angles. Her presence is no less warm and comforting than it had been from the beginning, though, her weight and smell familiar, the steady rhythm of her breathing when it finally evens out the same.
Eddie wonders if they were supposed to have stopped doing that, somewhere along the way–the sleeping together part, even though they're only doing it in the most platonic, just-friends sort of way possible. Then again, he's never put all that much stock in it, what he is and isn't supposed to be doing. Besides, how much difference could stopping really have made? Not a whole hell of a lot, in his opinion, considering they've both been bi as fuck the whole damn time.
Sharing a bed all the time doesn't really help his other problem–the staring, the thinking about Stevie's plush curves and soft skin–but that's his own shit to deal with and work out. Stevie shouldn't have to suffer through the nights alone just because Eddie can't keep his hard on for her in check.
So, yeah. He thinks she’s a knockout–of course he does–but the truth is, that’s all secondary to the way he feels about her. She’s steadily grown into one of his best friends, in the time since he’s finally gotten to actually know her. And if all he ever gets to do is look–and better yet, talk to her, bicker and joke and tease, share popcorn at movie nights crammed too close together on the Harrington’s couch and laugh at all the same stupid inside jokes–well, he considers himself honored for the privilege of it. 
“What, Munson?” Stevie laughs suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie–during which he had, of course, still been staring–by smacking him lightly on the arm with her comic book. 
That had been another secret, shared between them–Stevie liked the X-Men, she’d confessed, even if she couldn’t resist pretending otherwise to Dustin. She said the Mutants made her feel…seen, in a way she really hadn’t ever before. 
"I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart," Eddie had agreed easily when she told him. 
"Kinda figured you might, Eds,” she had shot him a soft smile, which he returned in kind.
That feeling of being seen–understood–stretched out beyond the pages of the comic book to encompass them both, the way they just fundamentally got each other.
"Mystique's got nothing on you, though," he had added with a wink, falling back on his old routine of borderline flirtation just for the pleasure of seeing her blush yet again, ducking her head as she gave his shoulder an exasperated nudge.
He blinks back to reality, finds himself looking into those same mesmerizing eyes now, big and brown and staring back at him expectantly. A smile plays at the corners of Stevie’s mouth as she puts her comic aside. Scooting closer, she reaches to give one of his test booklet pages a quick shake. 
"You're supposed to be studying, you know. Believe me, I get how hard that can be, and I wasn't exactly the best in school…but I'm still like 99% sure you at least have to look at the page before you get it,” she teases. “And I haven’t got the answers to this question secretly penciled somewhere up my sleeve, promise. So, not really sure how staring at me is gonna help you here."
Eddie studies her face–the amused pink curve of her mouth, the cute little moles that dot her cheeks and throat. 
That wistful sigh finally escapes him.
“Shit, sorry,” he apologies on autopilot, and then, the confession rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, “you’re just so…fucking pretty.”
As soon as the words have left his mouth, he cringes, preparing to blurt out yet another apology–and then Stevie’s finger presses against his lips. When he glances at her, he finds that her whole face has lit up. 
Well, fuck. If she’s gonna look at him like that, he can’t even be sorry for his big mouth.
Then, surprise of all surprises–he feels a jolt as she leans in and pecks him once on the cheek, lips smooth from her cherry chapstick. 
“Thanks. You’re sweet, Eddie,” Stevie murmurs, quietly, as she pulls back. Then, her smile turns mischievous, pretty eyes giving one of her patented, exasperated eyerolls. “And good of you to finally say something about it.”
Eddie barks out a disbelieving laugh before he can help it, hiding his face for a moment between his fingers.
“Seriously, Harrington, you know you’re a total babe.”
“Yeah, sure,” Stevie agrees, a glimmer of that overconfidence she’d carried herself with in school shining out. Eddie can’t even lie–he loves it. “But a girl still likes to hear it, now and again.”
“Shit, Stevie.” Head still ducked, Eddie reaches out slowly and takes her hand, twiddling with her fingers as he looks up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. “Now that I know you want me, too–I’ll tell you anytime you want.”
Reaching forward, Stevie tucks a tuft of hair behind Eddie’s ear, not letting him hide behind the curtain of it. Then, she leans in, and this time she presses a soft kiss to his lips. 
Eddie sucks in another sharp, surprised breath, finally tasting that cherry flavor for himself. 
“I’m totally gonna hold you to that one, Eds,” she says, leaving their foreheads pressed gently together even once she pulls back, “so just get ready for it.”  
But, then, a mere moment later, Stevie is bouncing backwards on the bed, giggling when Eddie leans in, trying to chase after her lips again. He groans as she picks up his booklet and presses it against his chest. 
“You can check me out all you want later, stud,” Stevie shoots him a wink, flipping open to the page he had left off on. “But, for now…you’ve gotta get back to work.”
When she settles down beside him this time, though, she stays close, hooking her chin over his shoulder. 
“And, I’ve got an idea. A tried and true method for studying. Works every time.” 
“That right?” Eddie tilts his head to face her, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, lay it on me, then, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
He taps a finger lightly against her temple. The playful twinkle in Stevie’s eyes as she grins at him makes Eddie’s heart skip a bit.
“How about…I give you a kiss for every question you get right?” she murmurs, close enough her warm breath ghosts over his skin. 
Eddie lets his eyes drop down to the red shine of her lips, and feels giddy, for once, knowing he can look his fill. After a long, loaded pause, he gives a sharp nod, clapping his hands together.
“You know what, Stevie? Studying never sounded so good.” Snatching up his pen again, he settles back with the test now spread across both their laps. “I’m in.” 
And, this time, whenever Stevie distracts Eddie from his studies–well. At least he can tell himself it’s all in the name of a good cause.
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horangare · 1 year
Note
Heyy!!! Just saw that your requests are open... Can I please request a fic?
Something like slow burn (nsfw) arranged marriage with Dino...
(You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable ♡)
Btw, love your fics a lot!! 💖❤️💕✨💞
for the good of the kingdom (and the good of my heart)
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pairing : prince!dino x princess!reader
content : angst, fluff, smut (more towards the end, mdni), modern-ish royalty au (sorry but i cannot keep up with that old formal talk), slowburn
in which : where there is a winner, there is always a loser. your country losing the great war was the worst thing that could’ve happened, at least that’s what you thought before you learned you were going to have to marry the prince of the one nation that still kept its alliance with yours.
warnings : dino is totally in love but y/n is totally stubborn, y/n has some personal issues, itzy is mentioned to work for your family, arguments and misunderstandings, fingering, oral (m receiving), handjobs, unprotected sex (be safe), doggy style, creampies, praise, dirty talk, declarations of love during sex, a poor description of a wedding (probably, idk)
wc : 12.3K words
note : aaah omg my first request i’m so excited 😆 also i’m so happy you enjoy my fics, that means so much to me 🥹🩷 (also, i’m sorry this took me a lil minute, this is my time writing slowburn 😭😭)
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“I am not marrying him!”
Ever since you were little, the Kingdom of Sokoto has always been the best. The most prosperous, the most powerful, the most influential, all of it. At the mere mention of the name “Sokoto,” people trembled. Hell, just being in the presence of someone from your family or even your court would have the most refined commoner on edge. Needless to say, you were important, and you knew it.
If only it wasn’t for that damned war.
To be fair, the Kingdom of Sokoto hadn’t risen to the top by being kind and loving. Many of the past rulers had been cold and self-serving, but never to the extent that the current ruling family, your family, had been. That was exactly what caused problems back then, and it was exactly what caused problems now.
This had all started in the Kingdom of Hisia, when your father broke a decade long alliance with their people. In his words, Hisia was an “acceptable loss,” because as a kingdom they were too soft-hearted to do anything about it. The only problem about Hisia’s people (other than being too soft-hearted) is that they were notorious gossips. When the common folk got word of this news, they told anyone and everyone who would listen. And soon, almost every kingdom in the nation knew what had happened. From Ilorus to Umbris to Kano, everyone was scrambling to break their alliances with Sokoto. Well, almost everyone.
Of course, the problem didn’t stop with your allies just leaving. No no, leaving wasn’t enough. Sokoto had reigned far too powerful for far too long. Too many things had gone overlooked. Too many injustices unpunished. Apparently, they all had their own personal grievances against the kingdom that had just been waiting to be brought to light. So how exactly did they decide to let you know that? Declaring a war, obviously.
And of course your parents were too stubborn to back down. Sokoto had never lost, never ran away from any sort of threat, never surrendered. After all, there was never a problem this kingdom couldn’t handle, with or without support from the other kingdoms. There wasn’t any need for them anyway. Your army was the most feared and well trained in all the land.
Your army alone, however, hadn’t been enough. Not in the first year of the war. Not in the second. Not in the third. When your father realized that he couldn’t continue on like this, sending the few remaining poor young men of your country to fight a losing battle, watching the rest of his people suffer, he knew had to do the one thing nobody in your family had ever done: he had to surrender.
And now that it had ended, things couldn’t be worse. Sokoto had drastically fallen in status, going from the most revered kingdom to the most despised. Oh, and the gossip never stopped, not even after things had been settled. You heard what they said about your family, every rumor, every exaggeration. You couldn’t stand them.
The only thing that remained the same after the war was your family’s relationship with the Kingdom of Kasmira. The only ones who hadn’t abandoned or betrayed you, even after the initial shock with the Hisians, even after the other kingdoms had broken their alliances, and even after the war. Nobody knew why the Kasmiran royal family still bothered to keep connections with you, but you think you were getting a few ideas.
“[Y/n], I know this is sudden,” Your father said, his arms crossed over his chest. “But given the state of the kingdom, your mother and I have both agreed that a marriage between you and Prince Dino is a good thing for the kingdom.”
“What about what I’ve agreed on, Father?” You argued. “Really…as if losing that war wasn’t enough of an embarrassment.”
Your mother stood up and took a step towards you, pointing a finger in your face. “We do not speak of the war, young lady.” When you backed away, she sighed, and placed her hands on both your shoulders. “Don’t worry. You will have plenty of time to get to know him. Prince Dino is a nice boy. I’m sure the two of you will do good things for both of the Kingdoms.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but for now you chose to bite your tongue. There was a lot you could say, a lot you wanted to say, but it wouldn’t do you any good to argue with your parents when the decision had already been made for you.
So you were getting married. Lucky you.
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The day you got the news of your sudden engagement, you went back to your room and didn’t come out for the rest of the day. Really, who did your parents think they were, making such decisions on your behalf? And then saying that you’ll “grow to like it,” was just the icing on the cake. Who were they to speak for you? Who were they to decide who you would marry? God, you hated this family.
Come sunrise the next day, you lied in bed silently and stared at the ceiling. When you were bored of the ceiling, you stared at the wall. And when you were birds if the wall, you stared at the window. No, not out of the window, at the window. There was nothing to look at, anyway.
“Good morning, [Y/n],” The voice of your lady in waiting, Ryujin, drew your attention to the one place in your room you hadn’t looked at yet; the door. “Wow, you look awful.”
You smiled a little and shook your head. Ryujin had always spoken in a way that was a little bit…less than formal than she should have, but it was only really ever around you. Not that you cared. Ryujin and you had a close bond, and she felt more like family to you than the actual people you were related to, so you could find yourself putting up with the way she talked.
“You wouldn’t believe what my parents are making me do this time, Ryujin.” You started, letting out a heavy sigh. “You know Prince Dino? From Kasmira?”
Ryujin stepped closer, tilting her head to the side. “I know of him. Why?”
“They’re making the two of us get married.”
Ryujin gasped, her mouth hanging open. “Really? And they didn’t even tell you until now?”
“No! Can you believe it!” You huffed. “Honestly, why do I even bother with them? They seriously make me sick.”
Ryujin frowned, reaching under the blanket to grab your hand and pull you into an upright sitting position. Suddenly, her face lit up, as if she was remembering something. “Hey, you know what? Someone is actually here to see you, they’re waiting in the garden now.”
Now it was your turn to frown. “Who? Tell them that I’m busy.”
“Busy staring at the ceiling and the wall?”
“And the window.”
Ryujin shook her head, grabbing onto you again but this time to pull you out of bed, much to your displeasure. “Do you really want to stay in bed all day, [Y/n]?”
“I don’t see why I can’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest. At this, Ryujin scoffed. You were definitely your family’s daughter, even as much as you wished you weren’t.
“Oh come now, Your Highness, you could use some sun and fresh air. If you don’t get any now, you might wither away and die.”
“Is that an option?”
With a short laugh, Ryujin dragged you to your wardrobe, picking out what to put you in for today. “Oh [Y/n], you’re unbelievable.”
“I’m serious though.”
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Once Ryujin had made you “look presentable” (her words) she led you to the gardens, arm in arm, where she had said this mysterious someone was waiting for you.
“Ryujin, are you sure there was actually someone here and you weren’t just drunk? Again?” You asked, looking around the gardens for any sign of life other than you and your friend.
“Of course I wasn’t drunk! I’m sure he was here…” She mumbled, looking around with you. “Oh! There he is!” She pointed to the left, and you turned your head in the direction she was pointing in.
Standing in a more secluded part of the garden was a tall blonde man with a slightly lost look on his foot. He looked to be your age and was clothed in robes of soft yellow, the royal Kasmiran colors. Wait a minute…this man wasn’t a stranger, this was—
“Oh my god, Prince Dino…” You mumbled. Ryujin lowered her finger, alternating her gaze between you and him in disbelief.
“What? He’s the prince? [Y/n], I swear I didn’t know…he didn’t tell me.” Ryujin stammered, letting you drag her away towards the entrance and back to the castle. “Where are we going? He came here for you and he’s expecting you to be here.”
“Then he’ll be disappointed to know that I won’t be able to see him today. Or any other day.” You told her. The nerve of him, to show up here and telling your lady in waiting that he wanted to see you without even letting himself be known.
“Princess?” He called out from where he was standing, and you gripped Ryujin’s arm tighter. He just had to notice you, didn’t he?
If only Ryujin didn’t know how to deal with your stubbornness so well. You would’ve much preferred rotting in your room as you stared at the ceiling. Or maybe the window.
You turned around with a sigh, shamefully making your way closer to Dino while Ryujin trailed behind, having let go of your arm when you bruised it with that grip of yours. “Hello, Your Highness.” You greeted him formally, which seemed to confuse him.
“Your highness?” He asked with a laugh. “Princess, please. There’s no need to act like that. Not since we’re supposed to be getting married, after all.”
Oh please.
“I’m sorry, your highness. But considering the fact that we are meant to be married, I think this is exactly how we should be speaking to each other.”
“[Y/n], maybe Prince Dino has a point. And anyway you don’t really talk like that all the time—” Ryujin tried to reason with you, but you elbowed her in the side before she could continue. Clearing your throat, you looked back at the prince.
“So, what exactly are you doing here?” You asked him. Despite your formality, Dino seemed amused at your question. He took a few steps closer before stopping, realizing that you were backing away from him.
“Sorry.” He smiled. “My parents told me it would be a good idea to come here and get to know you since…well y’know.” He laughed, hoping you would too, but when he saw you looking more serious than ever, he stopped and looked away.
“So you’re only here because your parents told you to come?”
No response.
“Wow,” You scoffed in reply. You leaned closer to Ryujin, bringing your mouth to her ear. “I can’t believe my parents are this desperate.”
Forcing a smile, Ryujin leaned in closer to you. “Come on, he’s really trying here. Give him a chance. He’s basically your husband, after all.”
“He is not my husband!” You hissed, which caused Ryujin to stifle her laughter behind her hand.
“Yeah yeah, maybe not for now~” She teased, turning to bow for Dino before excusing herself back to the castle. And leaving you here. With him.
“The two of you seem close,” He said.
“Oh my, how on earth did you figure that out?” Dino’s lips formed a faint pout at your sarcasm.
“[Y/n], I’m sorry. I know that this is all very sudden, and I can tell you don’t like me very much,” He sighed. “But I just want to at least get along with you. I’ll really do anything.”
Smiling, you leaned in a bit closer to him. “Really? Anything?” When he nodded, you beckoned him closer with your finger. “Get lost, pretty boy.” Like Ryujin had done just moments ago, you bowed to him before turning away as you quickly retreated to the castle, but Dino followed you anyway with a grin on his face.
“You think I’m pretty?”
You turned your head to glare at him.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
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For the rest of the week, Dino continued to come over every day and seek you out, while you continued to avoid him at every turn. It would have been easier if he wasn’t so insistent, going as far as to ask Ryujin or other castle workers for your whereabouts. Dammit, why couldn’t he just let you avoid him? It’s not like the two of you were actually meant to be together. This was all just a convenient little ploy by your parents to repair their royal status. It wasn’t real, and you wished he would stop treating it like it was.
You really couldn’t believe the lengths he went to with some of these attempts to get closer to you either. The bouquets of white roses in the most intricate porcelain vases? The hand-written letters—front and back? The jewelry carved from only the finest of gemstones? All very sweet sentiments, yes, but to say you were uninterested would be an understatement.
On Friday, much to your embarrassment, Ryujin found you hiding from him underneath one of the tables in the kitchen. When she realized it was you, she shook her head and sighed.
“[Y/n], this is just sad.”
You shushed her, trying to squeeze yourself farther into the corner underneath the table. “Be quiet. He could be listening.”
“You have got to stop running from that boy. I mean really, what’s the big deal. He’s actually really nice.”
“The big deal is that I don’t need him following me around like a stray dog.” You scoffed. “Seriously, why couldn’t we just be a normal family of shunned royalty?”
“You don’t mean that.” She said. “And besides, it’s only a matter of time before he finds you. He’s really not giving up either, [Y/n].”
Realizing she was right, you crawled out from under the table, muttering a few curses under your breath. “Believe me, I know. He won’t stop sending me gifts.” Ryujin smiled when you said that.
“Wow, isn’t he charming.” Ryujin chuckled. “And speaking of him, he told me to tell you to meet him in the gardens again today.”
“Why is he always telling you all this stuff and not me?”
Ryujin looked at you incredulously. “Because you avoid him like the damn plague.”
Oh, right. She did have a point. Whatever, it’s not like you were going to go. You had managed to avoid him all week, and absolutely nothing would convince you to go.
Ryujin seemed to sense this, and she smirked. “He made you a picnic.”
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“I’m so happy you actually came,” Dino smiled at you. You sat across from him, holding the bowl of strawberries he had set out before him on the blanket. You looked up at him, pulling the strawberry you had been eating away from your mouth so you could respond to him.
“I just came because Ryujin told me about the picnic.” You curtly responded, bringing the strawberry back to your mouth. You thought he would’ve stopped smiling when you said that, but his smile only grew wider.
“So that’s all it takes then.” He mumbled. “Is that why you didn’t care for the gifts I sent before?”
You looked him up and down, sneering. “No, it was because I just didn’t care for them. It’s not wise to spend your money so carelessly on things that don’t matter.”
Dino leaned back, bracing himself up with his hands. “Trying to please my future wife doesn’t matter?”
You stiffened, gripping the bowl tighter in your hands. “Stop saying things like that.” You warned, yet he still seemed unphased as he watched you devour the rest of the strawberries. When the bowl had been emptied, you stared down into it with a frown and began to regret your greed for the little red fruit, because now you were all out.
Dino picked up the bowl once you had tossed it aside. “Should I ask someone to get you some more? I didn’t realize you would eat the entire bowl.”
“No.” You dismissively waved your hand, pushing away the thoughts of the strawberries, even though the offer of more was tempting. You hadn’t had strawberries since before the war. They didn’t grow in Sokoto, which is a fact that devastated you when you found out, and you always relied on a fresh monthly shipment of them from the Hisians and now…well…you’ve just gone a long time without strawberries. “No, It’s fine.”
Dino, however, was as insistent as ever. He picked up the bowl and started walking back to the castle. “I’ll ask Ryujin for more strawberries. Don’t disappear on me, okay?”
You spared him a single glance before looking elsewhere. “No promises.”
Dino laughed to himself, the words almost escaping his ears as he marched back to the castle with a little extra speed. He knew you wouldn’t leave—at least he hoped he knew. He wanted to trust himself, to trust you, but you were unpredictable. Thankfully, a little unpredictability was hardly an issue for him.
Though honestly, if you wanted to leave at any time, you definitely would. But with the promise of your favorite fruit, the urge to leave was just a bit short of overwhelming at the moment. Shifting yourself to lie on your stomach, you started to take notice of all the different things that Dino had packed with him on this picnic. All of your favorites…even the things you hadn’t gotten to taste in years. How could he know about any of this? You grumbled at the thought of Ryujin or any of the chefs selling you out.
You also took notice of the white rose sticking out of the basket. While they were the official flower of Kasmira, you were sure he must’ve had a secret stash of these somewhere because to be honest, you were getting tired of seeing them. But this one looked especially delicate, you couldn’t help but reach forward and take it in your hands, twirling it around and even holding it to your nose to take in the faint scent.
The sound of Dino’s footsteps on the gravel path had you looking over your shoulder, noticing he came back with an even bigger bowl of strawberries than he had left with. His classic smile returned to his face when he saw that your eyes had widened.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Ryujin insisted on giving you a bigger bowl. Said that you’d have no problem finishing the entire thing.” Him saying that had you coming back to your senses. Ryujin was just asking to be put out of a job going and telling those things to Dino.
You turned away, gazing down at the bowl when Dino set it in front of you. He sat himself down next to you, choosing to stay silent as he watched you set the rose to the side and pull the bowl closer to you.
“How did you know I liked all this stuff?” You asked quietly. Dino let out some sort of confused dound, and you sighed. “The food, I mean. Like…the strawberries. I haven’t had them in ages.”
Dino nodded, having understood what you meant. “When I told Ryujin I wanted to do this for you, she told me about all of the foods you always eat.” He laughed. “Really, I didn’t realize that you could be so choosy with your food. Do you know how hard it is to get fresh strawberries at this time if the year?”
“Oh fuck off.” Dino gasped, his mouth falling open at your sudden vulgarity. You were surprised too, covering your mouth with one of your hands once the words you had said sunk in. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“I didn’t know the Princess of Sokoto had such a filthy mouth,” He mumbled. For a brief moment, you were actually wondering if he was serious, but the smirk that slowly appeared on his face gave him away. Unable to fight the urges telling you not to, you hit him in the arm, biting back grin when he winced. “I didn’t know you hit so hard, either.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Your Highness.” You stared at the strawberry in your hand, taking one bite before placing it back in the bowl. “I shouldn’t eat any more. The chefs will be preparing dinner soon.”
“Leaving so soon?” He asked, and you nodded. “Alright then, should I escort you back?” He extended one of his hands towards you, and you stared at it for a moment, but still ended up declining. You didn’t miss the glint of disappointment in his eyes, either.
“We should do this again sometime.” You noted. “And I’m not saying that because I want to be around you, but because I enjoyed the food.”
Ah, there it was again, that classic bright smile.
“Also, you smile too much. I don’t like it.”
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You had been right about the strawberries. They did end up spoiling your appetite. You stared down at your plate, many of the contents on your plate going uneaten before you excused yourself to your room, Ryujin trailing behind as usual.
“[Y/n], what’s the matter? Was something wrong at dinner?” She asked, following you around as you threw yourself into bed. “Is it so bad you’re not even going to bother to change out of your outfit from today? Seriously, it’s going to get all wrinkled, and that’s just extra work for Yeji to do later.”
“I ate too many strawberries.” You stated. “Though I’m sure you know about that, right?”
Ryujin looked away, shrugging and shaking her head. “I’m not sure that I do, actually,” She mumbled, pairing it with an awkward laugh when she noticed you glaring at her. “Anyway, how was your little date with Prince Dino?”
“Ryujin, it was not a date. And even if it was, it would’ve been a pretty shitty date considering he left me in the middle of it.”
“Ah, c’mon, he came back! And he came bearing gifts!” She tried to reason with you, which you found both pointless and confusing.
You rolled your eyes, burying your head under the blankets, despite Ryujin’s protests that you would mess up your hair and get more wrinkles in your clothes. It wasn’t really a date, was it? Is that what dates were? Just being around another person, having them close by, talking (or not talking) to each other about whatever crossed your mind? That was a date? No way, you knew what a date was and whatever you and Dino had going on definitely wasn’t that. People went on dates when they loved each other, when there was romance budding and underlying tension. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t a date.
“Are you seriously not going to change out of that?” Ryujin asked, trying to pull down the blankets, but you were, unsurprisingly, stronger. With a sigh, she backed away. “Fine, but if Yeji asks me why your outfits are so wrinkled, I’m telling her.” You lowered the blanket just low enough to see her march out of the room and slam your door shut.
Normally, you would’ve fallen asleep after just a few minutes with your eyes closed. However, your stomach still felt funny and you tossed and turned every few minutes. We’re those strawberries really fresh? Would Dino serve you rotten strawberries? No, of course not…they were too red to be out of season. Not only that, but there was little chance Dino would do anything like that to you. He was too nice. The reason your parents ever think you two were some sort of match made and heaven was beyond you.
You couldn’t sleep yet. Not like this. Not with the ache in your stomach and the thoughts racing around in your head. Sighing, you gathered the little strength you had left to roll yourself out of bed, wandering through the halls and corridors until you needed up outside, at the front of the castle. A deep breath, followed by a slow exhale, and your head fell back towards the sky. The night sky was clear and vast and full of stars, and you felt your lips curl into a smile.
The stars understood you. When everyone else had abandoned you, abandoned your family, you sought comfort in the starry night sky. The stars never turned you away. The stars never betrayed you. The stars never forced you to do anything you couldn’t decide on. When you died, you hoped you became a star. They would surely accept you with open arms, like a real family.
You were so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed someone approaching you. A tall, blonde, someone.
“So you like the stars?” Dino asked, and you jumped a little. He took a step back, feeling bad for having startled you. “Sorry, [Y/n]. It’s just me.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at him, but turned your attention quickly back to the sky. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you that too.” He said, following your gaze and looking up. “It’s late for a princess to be alone outside at night.”
“My stomach hurts.” You told him. “From the strawberries. A walk always helps.”
“That was hours ago.” He said. “That’s weird. They were definitely fresh. Are you sure it was the strawberries?”
“What else could it have been?” You asked, your tone a bit harsher than you intended. You sighed, deciding to change the subject. “What about you? Why are you out here? I thought you went back home.”
“It’s not like I live far.” He had a point…kind of. Kasmira was your closest neighbor, only being about a few hundred miles to the east. You were seriously wondering how he managed to get here every day and still have so much time to spend entertaining the hope of getting to coax you out of your room to spend time with him. “Aww, are you worried about me?”
“Don’t go talking like that.” You told him. “Unless you want me to hit you again.”
Dino chuckled, breaking his eyes away from the sky to look at you. “You never answered my question from earlier.”
“Which one? I’m not keeping count.”
“Do you like the stars?”
You managed to look away from the stars to allow your eyes to meet Dino’s, even if only for a second. “Yeah. I always have.”
He stepped closer. “Why?”
“Because…” You hesitated. Why were you hesitating? “I just do.”
You froze, feeling something wet and warm sliding down your cheek. Dino gasped, coming even closer to see you clearly.
“You just ‘do?’ Is that really all there is to it?”
“Why do you keep asking me so many questions?” When you came out here, you had been hoping for a moment of peace and quiet. A chance to vent your frustrations to the sky, like you had done since you could talk. This was your one chance for a little bit of solitude, and you hadn’t wanted anyone intruding on it.
“I was thinking about what you said before,” He said. “When you told me there was a lot I didn’t know about you. You were right, I don’t know a lot about you.”
Okay, great. Now you were starting to feel bad about getting so upset. You sighed, lowering your head and looking at the ground. “I’ve always liked the stars. I just…find comfort in them.”
Dino wondered if you were going to say more, but you kept your lips pursed, and he figured there was more to it that you weren’t saying. That was fine, he wouldn’t push an answer out of you if you weren’t ready, he was just grateful you had confided in him. This was progress, even if it was only a small step forward.
The two of you continued to stand there in silence, looking everywhere but at each other. There was a strange feeling in the air, and it made you uncomfortable. Was this tension? Could Dino feel it too?
“Um, I should probably get back to bed.” You said, noticing Dino nod out of the corner of your eye. Like before, he extended his hand to you, and once again you declined. “Good night, Your Highness.”
“Good night, [Y/n].”
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The next morning, you did something you hadn’t done in a long time.
You shocked Ryujin.
“What are you doing awake already?” She questioned. “Is it opposite day? Am I still dreaming?”
“Oh you’re so funny, Ryujin.” You said, sliding past her and out of the door.
“Where are you going? And how are you already dressed? You did my job for me…am I getting fired?”
You laughed. “Relax. I’m just going to the orchard.” Ryujin narrowed her eyes at how casual you seemed, not even trying to hide her skepticism.
“The orchard? For what? We have plenty of apples here. Too many, if I’m being honest. Where are you really going?”
“Ryujin, really, what reason do you have not to trust me?”
“I have several. An entire list, actually.” She said. “Seems like I’ll be making an addition to it today.
“Ryujin, I’m giving you a day off, don’t you get it?” You asked her. “Now I suggest you take it before I make you do your job.”
Her demeanor changed in an instant.
“You are most gracious, Your Highness.” She bowed to you and then ran off to who knows where, probably the maids quarters, no doubt. Whatever, that was her business. Just like your trip to the orchard with Prince Dino was yours.
Since the picnic, he had stopped with the other gifts—well, he still sent you the flowers—and had started planning on bringing you out, starting with Kasmira’s renowned apple orchard. Kasmiran apples were spoken about in every corner of every kingdom, known for their distinctive flavor and sweetness. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to try one for yourself, and now you would finally get the chance.
He was waiting for you with a carriage, which he offered to help you into.
You raised one of your eyebrows. “What, you think I need your help to sit down?” When he pouted, you gave him a light shove. “I’m only kidding. But really, I’ve got it.”
“That was a joke?” He asked, climbing in and sitting across from you. “I’m shocked. I didn’t know you even had a sense of humor.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just normally so…serious. If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known you were kidding.”
You tilted your head back, resting it on the solid interior of the carriage. “The only person I ever joke with is Ryujin.” You explained to him. “She gets me. It’s easy to laugh with her.”
“You laugh too?” He just couldn’t stop. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.” He teased.
You glared at him, opening your mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, you turned your head to look out of the window, watching the landscape as it came into view and faded out of sight with the movement with the carriage.
“Will we be there soon?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to get to Kasmira as fast as possible to get your hands on one (or five) of those apples you had heard so much about.
“Yeah…” Dino nodded, then stopped and shook his head. “No, it’ll be about fifty minutes.”
Great, fifty minutes until you got to taste the rumored honey and heaven apples. Fifty minutes left riding inside this tiny little compartment with too little space keeping you and Dino apart. Just great.
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To your surprise, the ride had been faster than you expected. It might’ve had something to do to the nap you took on the way, but that was neither here nor there. Dino placed a hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you awake.
“Hm?” You hummed, the clutches of sleep still gripping your brain. You blinked yourself awake, gasping when you saw the field of trees from the carriage window. “We’re here!”
Dino opened the door, sliding out of the seat and holding the door open for you. You practically jumped out, an awestruck smile on your face as you stared up at the trees littered with the soft pink apples.
Dino smiled softly at your enthusiasm, watching as you stood up as tall as you could and plucked an apple off a branch, happily bringing it to your mouth to take a bite.
Oh god, the rumors did no justice to describe the taste of these apples. You had never tasted anything as fresh and crisp in your entire life. Giving Dino a quick glance, you continued to bite into the apple over and over again until he pulled it away from you, laughing.
“So, what do you think?”
You covered your mouth with one hand, trying to chew and swallow what was in your mouth, before nodding with a smile. “They’re amazing! I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life!” You took the apple back from Dino’s hands, taking the last few bites before you had finished it off.
“Then let’s get you a few more, hmm?” He said, pressing a hand against the small of your back while he reached up to grab a few more apples and drop them into the basket he had brought with him in his other hand. You froze, your skin burning at the feeling of his hands on your body.
“Um…Prince Dino?” You mumbled, catching his attention. You had never called him by anything other than “Your Highness” since the two of you first met, and he was definitely shocked to hear you say those words.
“Yes, [Y/n]?” He said, looking down at you but never moving his hand from your back.
“Your—your hand…” Dino looked down at his hand was, immediately pulling it away from where it had been, and in an instant you felt the warmth that had been there fade away.
“Oh, I’m so sorry [Y/n], I didn’t even realize.” He apologized. Without another word, he leaned down to pick up the basket and handed it to you. “Here you go, [Y/n]. Should I come with you to—”
“No!” You shouted, though you hadn’t meant to raise your voice. “No, no. There’s no need. I’ll go back on my own.”
Dino wanted to say something, but you had already turned your back to him, rushing back to the carriage and telling the driver to bring you back to Sokoto before he could. Glancing out of the window, you noticed him standing under the tree, watching you get farther and farther away, his arms limp at his sides.
You brought a hand to your chest, feeling your heart beat twice as fast than it should have been. This shouldn’t have been happening. This was exactly the reason you didn’t want him touching you, the reason you had refused to touch him, because you knew that if it happened, you wouldn’t be able to control how it would affect you. Even though it had been such a harmless, domestic, innocent touch, if it could get this much of a reaction out of you, maybe you should get stricter on the “no touching” rule.
This is not at all how you thought today would turn out.
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The next day things had gone back to the way they had been in the beginning; with you holed up in your room, avoiding Dino. And it was like that for the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Ryujin had tried to get you outside, or at the very least to the dinner table, but her persistence couldn’t stand a chance against your stubbornness. Once a week had passed since the apple incident, Ryujin couldn’t take it any more.
“Enough is enough [Y/n]. You haven’t left your room in a week. Dino won’t stop hounding me with questions about where you are every day, and I can’t take it anymore!” She huffed. “You need to get up and go see him so I don’t have to.”
“Ryujin, I can’t.” You said with a heavy sigh. “It’s just…complicated.”
“How complicated could things really be?”
More complicated than you would’ve liked. “I just can’t see him right now.”
“Well that’s too bad, because I told him you would.” Ryujin shrugged. “He’ll be here later, so we have to make you look…like you again, now.”
“Ryujin, I’m tired of you trying to play matchmaker. Are my parents paying you to do this to me?” You asked, your tone nothing short of accusatory.
“I’m doing this because you don’t need to be locked up in this room all day. Not only that, but I can tell how much you and Dino like spending time with each other.”
The rebuttal in your mind died in your throat at the last sentence Ryujin had said. The time you had spend with Dino recently hadn’t been all bad…but what did she know?
“Now get up. Unless you want Dino to come over and see you like…that.” She gestured to your overall disheveled appearance, a grimace on her face.
“Oh yeah, like you’re not a sight for sore eyes.” You hissed, then broke out into laughter along with Ryujin a second later. “Fine, whatever, I’m getting up.”
The next hour consisted of a long, soapy bubble bath, followed by Ryujin washing and doing your hair, and finally her picking out the finest outfit for you to wear just in time for Dino’s arrival in his favorite rendezvous point: the Sokoto castle gardens.
Fuck, you were so nervous.
Dino arrived with a single white rose in his hand and a smile, thrilled to be able to see you again. Ryujin bowed and wandered off, leaving with. Alone. Again.
“For you.” He said, handing the rose to you. You looked down at it before you gingerly took it from him and thanked him with a fleeting smile.
“Thank you.”
Awkward silence. The worst type of silence. This is exactly why you wanted to avoid him, to prevent all of these unnecessary feelings.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that day…at the orchard.” He said. “And my apology was so shitty, I—”
“Dino, stop. Don’t apologize. It’s…It’s okay. I shouldn’t have run off on you like that. It was rude of me.”
Dino stepped closer, noticing the way your body tensed up when he did. “[Y/n], what’s going on?”
“I…I don’t want you to touch me.” You whispered. The grip you had on the rose was starting to hurt your hand. Dino gave you a curious and worried look.
“Why?”
“…Because when you touched me at the orchard, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before in my life.”
You expected many different reactions from Dino. You expected him to back away, to call you strange or disgusting. You expected him to go running back to Kasmira as fast has his feet would carry him, to start avoiding you like you had been avoiding him. You even expected him to ask to call off the marriage agreement and find someone better, or nicer, or prettier.
You never expected him to pull you close, cursing under his breath and pulling your face up to look at him.
“Really, baby?” He asked, his voice suddenly soft, a direct contract to the way his eyes darkened. “Is that why you’ve been so adamant on not letting me touch you?”
A tentative nod of your head had Dino chuckling. “Now it all makes sense. Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel a thousand times better…only if you want to, though.”
“Yes, please,” your words came out hushed and breathy and shaky, allowing Dino to guide you you backwards onto the grass and gently push you backwards while he hovered above you.
Dino slid his hands down your body, seemingly pleased at the way you shivered when his fingers traced over your underwear, pushing up the button of your dress to see how drenched they were.
“Oh, baby,” Dino sucked in a sharp breath, pulling them to the side and biting his lip once he had seen how wet you actually were. “Is this all because of me?”
You nodded, covering your mouth to keep any noise from escaping. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You mumbled from behind your hand, making sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you clearly.
He ran two of his fingers up and down your slit before pushing one of them inside of you, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, all the while you squirmed beneath him, working hard to trap the moans that threatened to spill out of your lips.
“Baby, don’t be so nervous,” he said, adding a second finger inside of you and curling them just enough so that you finally let your hands fall away from your mouth and let your moans out. “That’s it, keep moaning like that for me. Fuck, you sound so pretty.”
“Dino…f-fuck. Don’t stop…” You ground your hips up into his hand, your mind growing foggy with pleasure as Dino increased the speed of his fingers. You were embarrassed at how easily his fingers slid in and out of you from how wet you continued to get.
Dino lowered his head, bringing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at any exposed skin he could find. He thrived at the way your moans grew louder and more urgent, switching the position of his fingers, opting for a scissoring motion and pressing his lips together to keep in a moan of his own. “Your thighs are starting to shake, love. Gonna cum for me?”
You nodded weakly, arching your back when you felt Dino add a third finger inside of you. Your skin felt hot and sticky and sweaty all over, and the only thing you could say when you felt your orgasm hit you like an earthquake was “Dino, Dino, Dino,” over and over again.
“That’s my girl,” Dino mumbled, fingering you through your high, pulling them out of you once you wrapped a hand around his wrist. You watched with wide eyes as he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste of you. “You taste so sweet, baby.”
“Don’t say thatttttt.” You whined, pushing him down onto the grass while you sat yourself upright. Wasting no time, you immediately brought one of your hands to his crotch, palming over the bulge that had been growing inside of his pants. “Ooh, what’s this? Is this all because of me?” You mimicked the words he had said to you earlier, grinning when he nodded and pushed his hips up into your hand.
“Baby, come on, you’re really gonna tease me right now?” Dino asked, unable to stop his hips from moving. As much as you wanted to tease him, there would be plenty of opportunities to do that another time. Right now, you wanted so badly to taste him, to feel him in your mouth and hear him moan for you like you had done for him.
You tugged down his pants and underwear, just enough so that his cock could spring free, and you drooled at the sight, noticing the bead of pre cum that had collected at his tip, and now it was time for Dino to be the embarrassed one.
“So…big.” You mumbled, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a few slow pumps, squeezing him once to see what his reaction would be. A hoarse groan served as your answer. “Can I…use my mouth on you?”
“Of course you can baby,” Dino nodded all too eagerly, watching with rapt attention as you brought your lips closer and closer to his cock. You have his tip a few kitten licks, the slightly salty taste spreading onto your taste buds. To be honest, you really didn’t know how to do this, the request coming from a carnal place inside of you. You were stalking for time so you could recall the words in a book you once read that had a scene similar to this moment in it. Once you had the faintest idea of how to proceed, you wrapped your lips firmly around his cock, feeling him rest his hands on the top of your head for stability.
Feeling you swirl your tongue around him, flicking your tongue across the slit as your head bobbed up and down had Dino absolutely reeling beneath you. He gripped your hair, shoving it all the way down to the base as he thrust his hips up into your mouth, gagging as a few tears starting to form in your eyes. “S-Sorry baby, shit, I can’t help myself…you’re s-so good with this cute little mouth of y-yours, fuck. Gonna fuckin’ cum already.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, letting Dino continue to fuck your mouth. He had pulled you back slightly when he registered your gagging, allowing you to wrap your hands around what didn’t fit in your mouth. You stroked him as fast as he tugged your head up and down, feeling your saliva trickle down your lips, chin, and all the way down Dino’s cock. When his hips stilled, you thought for a slight second that something was wrong, but the next second you felt his cum shoot into your mouth and down your throat, and he released his grip on your hair as he laid back and panted.
Recalling the words in the book once again, you swallowed—unfortunately you had done so a bit too fast, and you coughed and patted your chest to keep yourself from choking. The last thing you wanted to do right now was die in front of Dino after you had just sucked him off after he had just fingered you. Dino helped you by patting your back. Once your breathing had gone back to normal, he smiled at you, and you returned the gesture.
“Wow, you were right,” You mumbled. “I do feel a thousand times better.”
“Does this mean we can ban the no touching rule?”
You narrowed your eyes at him with a grin, giving him a pinch on his thigh. Dino hissed in pain, scrambling to pull up his underwear and pants. “Consider that a yes.”
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The next few weeks were nothing short of amazing. There was a minuscule, growing spark between you and Dino now, and it resided inside of your heart, and you felt no desire to let it die out or even to extinguish it.
Dino took you on several dates, yes, dates, in this time frame, always with an added personal touch. He brought you to a local Kasmiran bakery and then let you ride his thigh on the carriage ride home. He took you to a winery in Vaelia then ate you out behind the building. He asked you to tag along while he went sightseeing in Sokoto and had you cockwarm him in the carriage the whole time. With each of these, the spark in your heart continued to grow. 
At this rate, it was only a jagged of time before it grew to become a fire.
You were up early again this morning, having thought of the most wonderful idea in bed the night before. Today, you were going to Kasmira all on your own to surprise Dino. Sure, yes, you had been to Kasmira before, but never had you been to the castle. You would even bring him some tarts made from the tangerines you had picked in the Sokotoan tangerine fields on Tuesday with Dino before he asked you to sit on his face. That was a good day.
Ryujin couldn’t be happier for you, though at some times during this new stage in the relationship between you and Dino she felt like she couldn’t keep up with the new you. Though recently, you had been giving her more days to herself as you insisted on doing all the work for yourself.
You were getting ready to go, opening the door of your room, shocked to see Chaeryeong already standing there, seemingly spacing out again with a round golden container in her hands.
“Um…Chaeryeong?” You mumbled, waving a hand in front of her face. That seemed enough to snap her out of it, and she focused her gaze on you with a smile.
“Ah, sorry Your Highness! Here are the tarts, freshly baked just for you. Lia was going to deliver them, but then she remembered she had something to do with Ryujin at the last minute.”
You took the container from her and smiled. “Thank you. Oh, and tell the cooks I said thank you as well.” Chaeryeong nodded, bowing to you before excusing herself. You shut your door behind you, making your way out of the castle and to a carriage as fast as you could. When the driver asked where to, you happily chirped out “Kasmira, please,” and asked him to get you there as quick as he could. For all fifty minutes, you couldn’t sit still for longer than a few seconds. You just couldn’t wait to see Dino again, to hold him close and feed him your tarts. He’d probably ask if you made them, and even though you hadn’t, he’d still say they were the best things he’d ever tasted second to you. Then you’d get flustered, hit him, and let him bury himself between your thighs for as long as he wanted.
Long story short, you really wanted to see Dino. Really badly.
Upon your arrival to the Kasmiran castle, you rushed out of the carriage and into the castle, asking around until you found out that Dino was in the Kasmiran royal gardens. Thanking them, you hurried your way there, smiling when you took notice of his signature blonde hair. You were just about to call his name when he laughed, leaning his head back, and you saw a woman sitting beside him, looking at him with a smile on her face.
You felt your mouth go dry as it fell open in disbelief.
Princess Miyoung, the Princess of Hisia, was here in Kasmira. She was sitting next to Dino. Laughing with him. Touching his arm. You let out a shaky breath, a tightening feeling growing in your chest. What was she doing here? Why was she with him? What had she said to make him laugh like that? Fuck, you couldn’t take this. You had to get out of here. You turned around, having your third shock of the day to see Dino’s parents standing in the hallway behind you.
“Oh! Princess [Y/n],” His mother said, obviously surprised to see you standing there. “I wasn’t aware you were here. Is there something you need, honey?”
You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut with your head to the ground. There was no way you were making a scene, not in front of Dino’s parents. “N-No, uh…I just came to drop off these…tarts. For Dino.” You mumbled, pushing the container into the hands of the King.
“Well, what a lovely sentiment! We’ll be sure to give these to him then dear. I’m sure he’ll be happy to—”
“[Y/n]?” Dino’s smooth voice filled your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t turn to face him, you couldn’t, not if when you opened them you would see Miyoung standing there beside him, her presence alone enough to taunt you. “[Y/n], what wrong?”
“I have to go.” You said, scurrying out of the castle and back to the carriage. Dino chased after you, managing to catch up just before the carriage could start moving.
“What’s the matter? You just got here and now you’re leaving? Stay.” He reached through the open window to hold your hand, but you pulled it away and glared at him.
“Why? You shouldn’t need me when you have Miyoung here to entertain you in my place.” You retorted. Dino’s face fell, and you could only beat yourself up mentally for letting yourself get roped in by him. Of course he didn’t care about you. There was no way he could ever feel the same way about you as you did about him. You were fooling yourself for even thinking that for a second, Dino’s feelings were the same as yours.
“[Y/n], it isn’t like that, please just let me explain—”
You brought your hand up, placing it in front of his face to signal him to stop talking. “Don’t bother, Your Highness.”
For the second time, Dino watched you disappear from him, to let you slip through his hands like grains of sand, and stand to the side powerless as you faded away.
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This cycle seemed impossible to break.
For the umpteenth time, here you were, locked away in your room, refusing to see Dino no matter how many times he had begged. You cried every day, drowning your sorrows in bottles upon bottles of wine, dragging yourself to the window to sob to the stars once night had come. You kept the door lock, adamant on not letting anyone see you in such a state. Unfortunately, Ryujin had picked the lock of your bedroom door with a handmade lock pick she got from Yeji because you “needed to eat” so you wouldn’t die before the wedding.
To hell with that wedding, and to hell with the groom.
You sat up in bed, your hands still gripping the nearly empty wine bottle and your cheeks still stained with last nights tears. You brought the bottle to your lips, finishing it off and tossing it aside into the bed. With heavy feet, you dragged yourself to the vanity in the corner of the room, sitting down to take in your reflection.
What have I become, you asked yourself. Who am I? Sighing, you smoothed out the wrinkles in your clothes and tried to make your hair look less unkempt. You wished Yuna was here, she was the hair expert. Ryujin always preferred to keep it simple whenever she did your hair, but she had admitted to you that she learned everything she knew from the younger girl.
A knock at the door had you rolling your eyes.
“Go away, Ryujin. I don’t want breakfast.”
The door opened slightly, and you turned around with a scowl on your face. But then your face changed—softened. Ryujin wasn’t at the door.
“Sorry, I’m not Ryujin.” Dino mumbled, cautiously entering your room before shutting it behind him. “Can we…talk? I haven’t seen you in weeks, [Y/n]. I’m really worried.”
His tone of voice was so gentle and sincere you almost forgot why you were mad at him. Almost. The reason why came flooding back to your brain instantly, and you turned away from him.
“I have nothing to say to you.” You said to him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“[Y/n], please don’t be like that. You left before I had the chance to explain back at the castle.”
“Explain what?” You stood up, whipping around to face him. “Explain what you were doing with the Princess of Hisia? You know what they did to us.” Your last sentence came out quieter—sadder.
“Who is ‘us’?”
“Me! My family! The rest of Sokoto! That is who ‘us’ is, Dino!”
“Why are you grouping yourself with them?” As hard as Dino tried to understand you, in this moment he just…couldn’t. “The war wasn’t your fault, and there was nothing you could’ve done to change what had already happened.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that Hisia stabbed us in the back. And there you were, with the Princess of the first nation that decided to betray us.” You pointed your finger at him. “You’re a traitor.”
“I’m sorry that I have friends, [Y/n], and you don’t. But when your kingdom decides to stay out of unnecessary political affairs that you aren’t a part of, you get keep your allies. I’m sorry if that’s something you or your parents don’t realize because you’re so insistent on being cold and unfeeling, but that’s not what we do in Kasmira.”
Everything he said hurt more because not one part of it was false. But you couldn’t back down now. You had to do something to regain control over the argument.
Even if it meant sending him away.
“Get out.”
Dino raked his hands through his hair, and you could tell that his patience with you was running thin. “No, [Y/n]. I’m not leaving you while you’re like this.”
You glared at him. “I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again! Go marry somebody else!”
As soon as the words came out of your mouth, the look on Dino’s face was enough to make you regret saying them. You had never seen him go from looking so shocked and heartbroken before, not even the slightest bit. But now…now you had. At it was all because of you.
“Why would I want to marry someone else?”
Silence. Long, heavy, painful silence. Neither one of you looked away from the other or spoke, until finally, after what felt like forever, you found an answer.
“Because I know someone out there is a better match for you than I am.”
“What? [Y/n], what are you talking about? That’s not what I want at all.”
“You…you don’t mean that.” You couldn’t even look at him right now, not if you wanted to believe what you were saying no matter how untrue it was.
“I do, [Y/n]. I mean it. I’ve wanted to marry you since the first time I saw you. Even if you kept running from me. Even if you pushed me away. Even if I could only see you on your time.” Nothing could prepare you for the words he said next. “Because I love you, [Y/n].”
You stiffened, finally finding the strength to raise your head to look at him “What did you say?”
“I said I love you.” He repeated. “Should I say it again, baby?”
“N-No, you can’t…” You whimpered, leaning into Dino’s chest as you felt tears brimming at your waterline. “Please take it back…”
“Take it back? No, why would I ever do that? I really mean it. I’d never say I love you and not mean it, [Y/n].”
“Why do you love me? What is there to love, Dino?”
Dino frowned, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly.
“You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Every time you laugh, I laugh, because it’s so infectious. You’re such a good friend to Ryujin. When you eat something you like, you can’t stop until you’ve finished it all. You don’t make the best jokes ever, but you’re learning.” He said, laughing a little once he had finished. “And those are just my favorite things about you.”
You wrapped your arms around Dino, running your hands up and down his back, forcing yourself to believe that yes, this was reality. He was here, he was real, and he loved you. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled, the sound of your voice quiet.
“What was that?”
“I said I’m sorry.” You pulled back slightly so that he could hear your voice clearly. “I shouldn’t have ignored you, or run from you, or any of it. I…” Deep breath, you could do it. “I love you too.”
“Is all that true, baby?” You nodded, and Dino immediately pulled you back to his chest, hugging you even tighter. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”
“You mean it?” You asked, wanting to make sure that he was serious. “Not just ‘cause we’re supposed to get married, right?”
His laughter was music to your ears. “Of course not, baby. I love you either way.”
You smiled, tilting your head up so Dino could wipe away your stray tears.
Dino nodded, pulling you back again so he could look you in the eyes. “Yeah, I love you, baby.” His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
A nod of your head is all it takes before he’s pressing his lips to yours. You had never been kissed by anyone before, but the way Dino kissed you was enough to make you glad that this was the first kiss you had ever gotten. The kiss was slow and tender, and you unconsciously chased his lips when he attempted to pull away, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him in place. Dino smiled against your lips, the two of you only pulling away once the need for air went from mild to severe.
“Again?” You asked, and Dino immediately pulled you in again. The kiss was different this time, it was faster and sloppier, the initial tenderness of the first being replaced by a newfound desperation now that you two knew that what you were feeling was the same. Dino loved you, and you loved Dino.
You didn’t fight it when Dino started to guide you backwards, your body hitting the bed with a bounce. Dino slipped his hands under your thighs, flipping up the bottom of your silk nightgown and pulling down your underwear and tossing it onto the floor. He cupped your cunt with one hand, the palm of his hand pressed flat against your clit.
“Dino, please…”
“Please what, baby? Don’t you want me to play with this cute little pussy like always?” He asked, feeling the way your arousal stuck to his hand as he circles your entrance with one of his fingers. You shook your head, holding onto his wrist with your hand.
“Just want you to fuck me.”
Dino groaned, resting his hands on your hips and pushing your nightgown up even further. “Yeah? You sure, baby?”
You nodded, your skin flushed with heat. “Mhm, want your cock, Dino.”
God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and that he couldn’t get any harder, you just continued to surprise him.
“Who am I to deny the Princess?” He smirked, making quick work of removing his clothes. While he was doing that, you pulled off your nightgown and threw it and your bra aside, both of them landing somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Dino laid you back down on the bed, climbing on top of you while he ran his hands all over your body, grinning at the way you moaned and trembled when he teased your nipples.
“Dino, please,” You whined, and he chuckled softly.
“Okay, okay, sorry. I just can’t help myself,” He mumbled, reaching down to pump his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance. “Ready, baby?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Ready.”
Dino eased into your cunt slowly, giving you the chance to adjust to him, all the while he swallowed your whimpers and whines by kissing you. When he had pushed himself all the way inside, he tore his lips away from yours to bite down on your shoulder, resisting the urge to start moving his hips already. The two of you stayed like that for a little while before you  told him it was alright to start moving.
“So perfect, so pretty,” Dino mumbled, holding one of his hands holding onto your hip while the other had both of your wrists pinned above your head. He thrusted into you slowly, pulling himself out almost all the way before slamming back inside of you. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this, baby, fuck.”
“M-me too.” You shuddered, your body slowly traveling further up the bed each time he thrusted into you. “Love it, love you, love your cock, shit…”
“Love you too baby, so much,” He whispered, speeding up the speed of his thrusts, a quiet grunt coming out of his mouth when he felt your walls clenching around him. “Fuck…gonna cum for me already baby? Hm?”
Your response was lost in a series of strangled noises of pleasure as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. Dino pulled the hand pinning your wrists away and brought it down to the point where your bodies were connected, rubbing your clit in quick circles. You cried out, rolling your hips against him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you came undone beneath him.
“That’s it baby, I’ve got you,” He groaned, speeding up even more as he continued to thrust through your high. Once you had caught your breath, his hips jerked forward one last time before you felt his hit cum filling you up. You tried to pull him closer, figuring that he was done, but Dino flipped you over and ran the head of his cock along your slit, making you whine from the overstimulation.
“Just one more, baby. I cant get enough of this sweet little pussy,” He pushed in without warning, and you screamed, shocked at yourself for just how loud you were being.
“Ngh, Dino, c-can’t take it,” You whined, your head falling down onto the pillows and your mouth hanging open as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure.
“Shh, I know you can take it baby,” Dino whispered, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, taking a long deep inhale and sighing with content. “You smell so fucking good.”
You can feel his pounding in his chest against your back, your head falling backwards as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “G-Gonna cum again…” Dino couldn’t even brace himself before your walls clamped down against his cock, whispering curses against your skin, and felt his own release envelop him for the second time today too.
You fell forward onto the bed, your eyes closed as you steadied your breathing once again. Dino collapsed beside you, draping an arm over your waist and pulling you close. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at him and smiled.
“That was amazing.”
“Not as amazing as you, baby,” He murmured, stroking your hair with his hand. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you most.”
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You gripped Ryujin’s shoulders, much to her pain, because she was trying desperately to pry them away.
“[Y/n], your nails are digging into my skin,” She groaned, and only then did you pull your hands away.
“Sorry, Ryujin.” You ran your down the front of your dress, taking deep breaths to steady your nerves. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for this.”
“Of course you are,” Yeji shook her head with a smile on her face. “You look beautiful, [Y/n]. You just go out there, walk down the aisle, and tell Dino those two words that will join you forever.”
“Cum inside?” Ryujin asked, earning her a smack from Lia.
“No, I do.” Lia sighed, then turned to look at you. “I’m so glad you chose us to be your bridesmaids.”
“Yeah!” Yuna agreed, then shuffled around Chaeryeong and Yeji so she was next to you. “By the way, when you throw the bouquet, is there any chance you can sum it towards me?”
“She won’t see us, Yuna. There’s no way she’ll know who she’s throwing at.” Chaeryeong said with a quiet sigh. “I’m really so happy for you, [Y/n]. Dino is the perfect match for you.”
Yeah, if you heard her say that a few months ago, you would not have believed her. You might have even questioned why she would say such a thing. But after everything you and Dino have been through, you could finally agree.
Your father approached you and the girls, a smile on his face as he looked at you. “Oh honey, you look so beautiful. I never thought this day would come.” This was the first time you had seen your dad smile in years.
“What a gorgeous bride. Oh dear, I’m so happy for you,” Your mother cried, holding your head in your hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but smile seeing your parents so happy, and all because of you.
“Thank you Mother, thank you Father.”
Yuna gasped, and everyone turned to look at her. “It’s starting!”
Your father looked at you, nodding. “Alright honey. Are you ready?”
You let out the breath you had been keeping in for a while. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He pulled your veil over your head, intertwining his arm with yours. The two of you walked down the aisle, and you could hear the gasps and murmurs of everyone in the audience as you walked past them, all eyes on you in that present moment, especially Dino’s
Once you felt your father’s arm leave yours, you turned yourself to the right, faintly making out Dino’s face behind your veil. He reached forward, flipping the veil behind your head, his eyes softening when he got a look at your face.
“You look so gorgeous,” he whispered, and you smiled even brighter.
“And you look so handsome,” you whispered back, Dino trying to bite back the smile that continued to grow on his face.
The ceremony was beautiful, a bit longer than you had thought it would be, but it was fine with you, because Dino looked really good in that tuxedo.
“Prince Dino, do you take Princess [Y/n] to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for to love and to cherish; from this day forward?”
Dino’s hands gripped yours tighter as he nodded, staring deeply into your eyes. “I do.”
“And do you, Princess [Y/n], take Dino to be your lawfully wedded husband, in good times and bad, in joy as well as sorry, till death do you part?”
You nodded, looking back at Dino with just as much love in your eyes as he was doing with you. “I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me, I nor pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
The crowd before you all cheered as Dino cupped your head in his hands and pulled you forward for a kiss. This kiss felt different from the way he had kissed you before, again. This one was passionate, loving, now the two of you were complete. It was perfect.
Later on, after much cake a little drinking, and watching Lia and Yuna fight over the bouquet after you threw it between both of them, you and Dino were still waltzing on the dance floor in the middle of the rest of the guests, holding each other impossibly close, that longing love-struck look still in both of your eyes.
“I can’t believe I get to call you my wife, now,” Dino mumbled, spinning you around. You hummed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “My perfect, pretty, sweet wife.”
“Oh stop it,” You laughed. “Sweet is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“Not at all, baby. I think you’re very sweet.” He said, then pulled you closer. “In more ways than one. Speaking of which, I can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight.”
“Again?” You asked, but you still anticipated what he would have in store for you. “You’re insatiable.”
“Well now that you’re all mine, how am I supposed to help myself?”
You just smiled and shook your head. He should be so lucky that he loved you. But then again, maybe he didn’t need to be. Not when you loved him back just as much. Forever and always, till death do you part.
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smallbutters · 9 months
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Sickly Bodies - Michael Myers x Reader
Content Warnings - Stalking , mentions of suicide, murder (duh), uuuh michael myers is a warning alone lol
Notes - Minors DNI PLEASE, fluff but also murder, SFW, no specific pronouns or gendered terms used :))
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Eyes of the devil.
Black, soulless voids behind them, devoid of all humanity.
Ever since he was transferred to the Sanitarium, Michael has been referred to and treated as a being of pure evil - a blight upon this world. How would Dr. Loomis react now, to the situation Michael finds himself in?
A body lies in his house, in his bed, and for once it hasn’t gone cold, the heat of life still flowing through it.
You.
Sick as all hell, writhing in pain as whatever illness you have beats you into a pained, sluggish version of your normal self.
Michael stands aside the bed, making no movement.
He watches you, for a while - rolling back and forth occasionally, groaning in pain all the while.
When you finally become aware enough to notice that you aren't alone, you look up to his mask and give a meek smile. Michael isn't a comforting person, he never learned how to be or even received any himself, but something in you knows that this is his attempt at it.
"You don't have to stand here, you know."
You get no response.
A few seconds of silence pass as you close your eyes, letting out a slow, shallow breath.
"This will pass, it might take a bit longer since you don't have any medicine in the cabinets, but I'll be just fine soon enough..." You trail off.
You are once again met with silence.
It doesn't take too long for you to succumb to the exhaustion and fall asleep, your body being completely drained from fighting off this virus. You don't know how long Michael stayed there, or if he even was there after you finished talking - for such a big body, he's incredibly quiet.
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Unbeknownst to you, he stayed, unmoving, for a good half an hour after you drifted off.
He was planning on going out tonight - a frat house down the street has been too rowdy lately, and losing a few members would likely get them to quiet down (you had been bothered by the noise lately, but that isn’t why he’s going for them) But leaving you here alone, sick and in pain seemed to hurt his cold heart.
Why?
If you posed an obstacle for him and his goals, he really should just kill you. You two have been together for a few months now, in a sort of problem-and-problem-enabler type situation - you provided him a place to stay at your half-used apartment, food, and company (an attempt at it, at least), and Michael provided with a sense of safety as your behind-the-scenes guard dog, and an odd sense of pride knowing you’ve, to an extent, tamed the beast terrorizing Haddonfield.
Michael isn’t stupid, not in a general sense. While he had been in a mental institution for the past fifteen-odd years, he's killed dozens of people by now and never got even remotely close to being caught. He’s just a little socially confused. He’s been treated like the devil itself for the past 15 years of his life, so your kindness, let alone your peaceful coexistence with him is somewhat lost to him. Even the night you met had been something he’d never thought he’d let happen.
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You had been taking pictures of the old Myers house a few months back, just after sunset. There was enough light for you to see, but with every photo you took that was getting more and more difficult. You had walked here by yourself, which you quickly began to regret - you could hear quiet(ish) shuffling coming from the side of the house, and it definitely wasn’t getting further away. You obviously knew of Michael, everyone did - but August was much earlier than he’d ever returned, and you knew some local teens had taken up pretending to be him just to get a scare out of people. At first you thought you’d just get a little spooked and laughed at, then be able to head home safely, but apparently impersonating a killer doesn’t sit well with said killer. 
The two impostors were killed with ease and a lack of ceremony, and you were quickly thrown into the house. You thought the last thing you’d ever see would be that infamous pale white mask looking into your eyes, but it wasn’t. You saw the eyes behind it - the man, the human. In complete honesty, neither of you knew why what happened next turned out the way it did. One moment you were pinned against the wall by the real Michael, the blood from the two imposters staining both your clothes. Then all he did was let out a loud huff before stalking away. The man who never left someone alive let you, of all people, live.
In the coming months you began to spot him near your apartment and - seemingly - following you around town. You were smart enough not to tell anyone, as you knew he’d disappear before anyone else could spot him and you’d wake up to a pool of your own blood and live out your last moments from a betrayal-fueled, merciless kill. From then on you had learned to interpret his non-verbality, which lead to an eventual fucked-up kind of kinship. You never tried to get him to stop what he does - to “fix” him. He appreciated that. With time he began to enjoy, even desire your company, and even went as far as allowing you to see who he was under the mask.
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Getting to the location was easy enough - it was dark as all hell outside in the early December nights, and no one wanted to leave the safety and comfort of their homes. Especially since the small town had just been visited by the infamous boogeyman. Except, seemingly, the exact house he had his sights on. Perhaps it was just a lapse in judgement by a house full of drunk, intelligence-deprived party goers, but perhaps they thought one escaped asylum serial killer wouldn’t be able to survive against all of them. Either way, they left the side door unlocked. Entering the house, Michael quietly stalked around the trash strewn about - it seemed like a party had just concluded, which meant it was very likely that everyone in the house was dead asleep from over drinking. Easy targets.
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It didn’t take long for Michael to be almost completely alone in the frat house. His ability to quietly stalk through it was really put to the test however, as the house was absolutely filthy. He could smell, even through his mask, the stink of cheap alcohol, smoke, and something that he’d be alright with never fully identifying. The ground was almost completely littered in something that looked like discarded clothes, with various kinds of large stains just about everywhere - for once maybe he’d actually be the good guy by killing whoever made this mess.
Finding said filth was pretty easy, people were asleep on the floor, on couches, piled together on beds. He saw two bodies sharing a bed, one draping an arm over the other, their hand being held by the other. He thought of you - your warmth finally allowing him to get some real rest at night. How you were never scared of his large hands, never seeming to care about the blood that can’t be washed from them. How you also seemed to sleep better in his presence, sometimes waiting up for him to even get to bed.
You better not be doing that now.
That room took him a bit longer to get through.
The last room was on the eastern side of the building, the master bedroom. Only a few people were in this room, two piled on the bed and one asleep face-down on the floor, lying in a pool of… something. Michael had gotten rid of two of them before he noticed how the only window of this room was perfectly facing your old apartment. You had been splitting time between there and the old Myers house ever since that night, but the knowledge that anyone in this house could have seen you through that window made his blood boil. He can’t stop you from interacting with people; he had enough common sense to know that you had to work and get money to sustain yourself and get whatever you thought Michael needed as well, and that a good person like you needed more than just a serial killer for company (much to his dismay). However, he absolutely could stop people from going to you first. As he stood over the last soon-to-be-corpse, panting from the adrenaline, he came up with a plan.
Michael had always made his kills swift and brutal, leaving no room for anyone to think it wasn’t his work. But tonight, he changed it up a bit. He woke the last victim up, quickly grabbing him from behind.
“Wha…what?”
The poor boy was barely conscious as Michael put the knife into the other’s hand, using his own to guide him to slit his own throat. Of course, there was a slight struggle, but having a hangover and fighting against a killing machine worked against the last man’s favor, and the knife glided across the skin, breaking through with a steady trickle of blood. He fell to the floor in a position of apparent suicide, and Michael then got to work. He wanted it to seem that this poor boy had lost his mind and killed every member of the afterparty he had hosted himself, all because of an obsession with the person across the street - you. Michael staged the scene by changing the boy into his overalls (plenty of stupid people had been impersonating Michael, no one would think it was actually his.) On a piece of paper, he wrote down your typical schedule for any given week - no, he did not memorize it, and he certainly didn’t repeat it to himself like a mantra when he needed to focus. Don’t be stupid. To anyone who’d see the scene, it would look like an obsessed maniac realized you were out of his grasp, lost his mind, killed all his friends and then himself. The police would likely put together that you were his target, and they would likely question you, but Michael knew you wouldn’t say anything. If anything, you’d probably assume they meant him, and would be absolutely shocked when it would be revealed to be someone else. Maybe you’d put together that it was all an elaborate ruse from Michael. 
Maybe you’d thank him.
Michael stole a change of clothes and left, leaving the knife as proof of the crime clearly not committed by him, a small bottle of cold medicine he found on the nightstand rattling in the pocket of his pants.
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As he expected, the house was quiet when he returned. Well maybe not expected, but that’s what he wanted to greet him. He hated when you stayed up for him, as if you were an old married couple (deception and avoidance was his game, it was only a matter of him before he fell victim to it himself). You were his captive, and would likely end up being his victim too (deception). There was no love in his heart, in this home, anywhere close to him. He’s a killer, and only a killer (avoidance).
So why do his hands twitch when he thinks of you? Why does his body move on its own, craving your warmth and touch?
You were still asleep when he got to the bedroom, breathing shallow. He set the medicine bottle on the nightstand closest to you, going into the bathroom to make sure he was free from any blood before he joined you bedside. The dip in the mattress woke you up enough for you to open your eyes to see a bottle of cold medicine left for you (don’t mind the dark red smear on the label).
“Thinking of me even during a bloodbath?”
You sat up and took two of the small pills, washing them down with the glass of water you had gotten earlier in the night. When you laid back down, you were pulled into the grasp of your oh-so-thoughtful killer. You felt his face nuzzle into your hair with an uncanny tenderness- wait. His face? Like, the actual one?
“Your mask- where is it?”
He opted to not respond, instead pulling you further into his chest. You quietly hummed, too tired to press it any further. You reached back and grabbed his hand and pulled it close, right on top of your heart.
He huffed in response.
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blueninjablade3 · 3 months
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Yandere Hades Alphabet
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Affection: how do they show you love and affection? How intense can It get?
Hades is very affectionate in every sense. He’s very verbally affectionate, physically affectionate, and adores giving you gifts. He can also get really intense with it and needs to be reminded to slow down.
Blood: How dirty is he willing to get when it comes to you?
His preference is to have the fates cut the mortal's life thread. But if that doesn’t work burn baby burn.
Cruelty: how will they treat you once kidnapped will he mock you?
He’s actually pretty sweet once he has you kidnapped. He does mock you slightly. However, that probably would happen even if you weren’t his obsession love.
Darling: besides kidnapping you would he do anything else against your will?
I actually don’t think he’d do anything too bad against your will. MAYBE extending Meg’s contract or harming Pain and Panic.
Exposed: How much of his heart do you bear?
Oh, honey. You bear ALL of it. Do you think he cares for Pain or Panic ? No! Just you (Creepy)
Fight: How would he feel if you fought back?
He’d be pissed! Babe, you're his! He’s treating you like his queen. Why are you fighting? Are you that ungrateful.
Game: Is this a Game to them? Would he like watching his darling try to escape?
No! This isn’t a game babe. He just wants you to love him and be his sweetheart
Hell: Your worst experience with him.
I’m going to say when you were first kidnapped. You were so confused and scared. Hades is a very imposing figure.
Ideals: what he sees in the future with you.
He sees himself ruling Mount Olympus with you as his queen. No more Zeus, no more having to keep you from seeing the sunshine, no more trying to run away. Just being with him.
Jealousy: does he get jealous and if he does, does he find a way to cope or will he lash out?
He gets jealous extremely easily. He’s also very prone to having an extreme outburst when he is jealous. Hopefully, that doesn’t result in you getting hurt on accident.
Kisses: How does he act around you?
Hades is his usual self however he is calmer, sweeter, and slightly more lovely Dovey.
Love letters: how would he go about courting/approaching you?
Hades would shower you with gifts, loving words, and most importantly promises of you two ruling on high.
Mask: Are his truth colors different from what people think?
I actually don’t think his true colors are different from what people think. Maybe just nicer than everyone thinks. (Quick Rant; I personally don’t think Hades is as much a villain as he’s misunderstood. I’d be pretty upset if I was cast down to the underworld.)
Naughty: how would he punish you?
You know? I think he’d be into isolation for a punishment. I thought throwing you into the River of Styx but that seems intense. He might though. Maybe if you almost escaped?
Oppression: what rights did he take away from you:
I think the Freedom to go outside is the only right he takes away from you.
Regret: does he regret kidnapping you? Will he ever let you go?
He doesn’t regret kidnapping you and he won’t let you go either. You’re his queen. He needs you.
Sigma: what brought this side of him?
I think the loneliness of the underworld is the main factor for what brought this side of Hades on. I can’t think of too much else honestly.
Tears: how would he feel if you cried screamed or Isolated yourself?
He’s going to feel bad regardless if you’re doing any of those things. He's going to comfort you regardless. Even if he’s worsening it.
Unique: is there anything different from a normal Yandere
He’s a god and you live in the underworld. That's very different.
Vice: what can you use to escape him?
You think you can escape? YOU’RE IN THE UNDERWORLD?!
Witts end: would he ever hurt you
Yes! But it’s an accident. He probably got a little angry and just erupted. Which caused you to get a small burn.
Xoanon: how much does he revere/worship you and to what extent is he willing to go to win you over
He’s revere you so much. You’re already a divine figure in his eyes. He’d do anything to win you over.
Yearn: How long before he snapped and kidnapped you?
Hades is surprisingly patient. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to wait long. I say 3 months before he snaps
Zenith: would he ever break you?
No. Even if he did he’d just snap and you’d be fixed.
Thank you for reading! Please remember that rebloging, likes and comments are much appreciated! ❤️ Once again there is a Poll below.
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lliminall · 1 year
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yandere!itachi uchiha x reader | general headcanons
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tags: gn reader, stalking, controlling/obsessive behavior, itachi being a creep but he knows it
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itachi is largely a hands-off yandere. at least in the beginning, he really doesn’t interact with you much. you would have no idea the extent of his attachment to you, or how much time he spends trailing you and simply observing your each and every mannerism. he considers himself to be a kind of silent protector, someone who watches out for you without expecting anything in return.
the longer this goes on though, the stronger the pull towards you becomes. itachi doesn’t just want to be stuck in your peripheral. it loses its satisfaction the more he sees you smiling and chatting with friends, family, coworkers. why does he have to be stuck on the outside, while they bask in the soft light of your presence? he does more for you than any of those people do, and you don’t even know it. he’s more devoted to you than any of those people are, and you don’t even know it.
when the quiet (and intimidating) shinobi begins hanging around your work place more often, you don’t think anything of it. he’s been nothing but courteous in your interactions with him, succinct but polite. it’s the strangest feeling, though. you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re being watched while he’s there, sipping on a cup of tea in his quiet corner of the cafe. when you turn to look, his eyes are never on you.
itachi is lucid enough to recognize that there’s something wrong with his behavior. creepy, even. but as a shinobi he’s done far worse things than follow some civilian around from the shadows. and anyway, he’s doing this for your own good. you can’t use chakra. you can’t fight. and itachi has spent his entire life witnessing how dangerous the world around him is. however questionable his actions may be, those concerns are easy enough for him to brush away when he remembers that his reason for doing them is just. he’s more than willing to dirty his hands for your sake.
it’s endearing, how kind you are to him despite knowing nearly nothing about him (certainly not as much as he knows about you). you emanate a sweetness so uncommon in his world, so often snuffed out by the harsh realities witnessed by shinobi. it makes you rare. it makes you special. it makes you a cool and healing oasis for him to come and be refreshed by, when he needs to be reminded that not everything is violence and drama and underhanded work.
your relationship with itachi likely doesn’t progress beyond that until you begin seeking him out. asking him about his day when he arrives for his usual order. waving him over when you see him on the street. itachi really was content with being a nameless figure that protected you from the dark, or at least he tried to be, until you began encroaching further and further into his life until he could no longer ignore how good it felt to have you there. you don’t even know that you’re sealing your own fate with every conversation you tug him into.
itachi is a yandere so subtle that you may not ever realize just how deep and dark his feelings for you run. even if you were to get into a romantic relationship with him, he easily plays off any concerning behavior as harmless overprotectiveness. he just cares about you so much. and you know how much violence and death he’s surrounded by in his work, surely you can understand why he would want to keep you safe? you don’t need to worry about any of it. itachi will take care of everything. you just need to let him take the reigns.
all of that can change in a second if you try to leave him, though. itachi is a loner by nature. he doesn’t form intimate relationships easily, and when he does, he’s locked into them. that uchiha loyalty is not to be taken lightly, and if you force his hand he’ll use any means necessary to keep you under his protective wing. it would be easy enough to put you under a genjutsu to keep you in line. you’re a civilian; you wouldn’t even know what hit you or how to break out of it.
that’s assuming he even has to go to that length, though. itachi is one of the most revered shinobi in the leaf. you know that you can’t overpower him, run from him, or hide from him. even if you had the courage to try, one hard glare from him is enough to put you back in your place. he doesn’t like the thought of scaring you but he’ll do what he must. you’ll wonder what happened to that gentle and good-natured man you used to know, as he’s tugging you back to your home and you’re shaking with the memory of that cold, blazing red glare.
as long as you can stay within his carefully placed guidelines, itachi is a relatively easy yandere to have around. if you never cross his barriers you’ll never have to witness that dark and possessive streak he holds for you. even if you do, he’s more than ready to forgive and forget if you’ll just learn your lesson and give yourself back up to his protecting arms. ultimately, he wants you to be safe and happy and his. he doesn’t want to take any more from you than he absolutely has to—he just needs you to meet him halfway.
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scoobydoodean · 4 months
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I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.
I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.
I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.
Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.
I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:
When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.
Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.
Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.
That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.
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This is why we're exploring this rewatch.
DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.
It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.
Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.
(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)
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ficthots · 1 year
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A/N: Wow, just yeah. I know it's been a long while since I posted for Peter, but like I promised, I was working on things for him and here it is! Now, I'll crawl back into my cave until my next writing is ready. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence
Word Count: 6.4K+
Time is a fucking thief. Really, it is. Waking up with the rising of the sun, getting ready to go to a job you despised, remaining in a windowless cubicle for eight hours, making dinner, then time to sleep again. Watching the clock as each passing minute was taken from you over and over again. Now when you throw being a superhero into the mix, it makes it even worse.
Holding down relationships, careers, any and all of the important things in life were always seemingly snatched away when it came to the personal life of crime fighting vigilante Spider-Man. That’s why when you entered his life it was like getting another opportunity to engage with time he had never experienced before.
Looking forward to coming home and eating dinner, stopping by on patrol nights to give you a goodnight kiss no matter what, to Peter Parker, he would do everything in his power to devote as much time as he possibly could to you.
Perhaps you were the time thief in his life now. Either way he didn’t mind when it came to you.
Were there times when it just simply wasn’t possible to shovel all of his waking energy towards you? Of course! The problems came when it had been that way for months. Yeah, you read that right.
In the span of four months, Peter had become so ravaged with his other entities responsibilities that his time with you was drastically rescinded. Unanswered text messages for days, not a peep from him for a week at a time, no more windowsill kisses. It was like he had vanished into thin air.
You understood at first. Hell, you had been dating the man for three years! What was happening, though, was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before. A group of men, identities undisclosed, were wreaking havoc throughout New York City. For months on end, like clockwork, every other week a crime would occur.
Each more gruesome than the last.
Peter had never really been on a deadline like this. Knowing that with each ticking second it was growing closer to the next attack. Spending all nights on the streets, trying to spot whoever could be responsible for this.
The worst part was that he had no leads. A few locations that were all pointless distractions. No semblance of an inkling as to who was committing all of these atrocities. In the span of time since their starting, over eight lives had been taken. A mind boggling number for such a short span of time.
Police were just as useless and he had decided to not take up any more time than necessary with them in tow simply because they weren’t taking this as seriously as they should have been. Instead of confronting the public, reminding them to be careful and not to wander alone past sunset, they were sweeping it under the rug.
Not wanting to cause a public disturbance. No need to fear monger they had told Spider-Man. Assuring him that all of those victims were tied to a gang in one way or another and it was criminal activity work. Something that he shouldn’t spend too much time dwelling on.
That was not a good enough answer for Peter. He didn’t believe them. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure it was a group behind all of this. It could have been a serial killer that was on one hell of a spree.
There was no pattern with their victims either. Randomly selected from the streets. What you didn’t understand was why Peter was involved with all of this. Of course, you knew he wanted to do all in his power to save as many lives as he could, but you warned him to be careful after the initial police warning.
Sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong was not going to end well. It had been the first time you two had argued to that extent. Shouting at the top of your lungs you weren’t ready to lose him and that’s what you were afraid was in the works.
He called you silly for thinking such things. That you needed to have more faith in him than you were giving. It still didn’t answer why he was so invested in this. You knew there were details he was purposely not giving you. Maybe he didn’t want to frighten you or maybe he thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it, but to you, you were a partnership, a pair.
All you wanted was to have Peter back around. Who knows, you might be able to actually help him if he came to you and showed you what he did and did not have. Instead, he hid it from you. Becoming cold and aloof. Distant and consumed.
If there was something you knew about Peter it was that he did not like being bested. Truly holding himself to a standard that was near impossible. Knowing he was above average intelligence, to put it lightly, when people tried outsmarting him, it was always a humorous effort. No one bested Spider-Man.
This time, they were.
Following that night of your monstrous bickering, you hadn’t seen or heard from Peter in over a week. Honestly, you weren’t making much of an effort yourself. Having no interest in being around him when he was in a head space like this. Knowing that there really was no way to help him if he presented nothing to you.
Peter on the other hand was not okay with you going dark on him. Despite knowing that the clock was dwindling down before their next attack, it was the first time in weeks you had been at the forefront of his mind. The little voice in the back of his head was telling him he needed to smooth this over with you or he would regret it.
Which is why he was climbing into your living room window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, opting to take the night off even though it could be a crucial turning point. He ended up convincing himself it would be alright because if he didn’t have a direction to go in an hour before arriving at your apartment, then hunting tonight was pointless.
He didn’t have a direction.
Even though you hadn’t spoken to Peter, your thoughts were consumed by him as well. What was the bit of information he wasn’t giving you? Was there even anything he was leaving out? There could be the slim possibility he had actually divulged all he knew to you. But you knew better than that. Peter was hiding something, you just couldn’t figure out what it was.
The notes.
Discovered next to each of the victims he had come across. Given he was the only individual to find them and when he tried bringing it to the attention of the police, they had shrugged him off. They were trying to get to him.
Sheets of white printer paper, the typical horror movie fashion of assembly. Varying letters from magazines, newspapers, old letters, all taped and pasted on the paper in a note. Each one was different, but told in a fashion of a word problem. Some were like riddles.
Either way, with each new victim that appeared, so did a new note. It was one of the things he dreaded the most. Seeing what possibly innocent person had been selected in order to deliver the paper to him. His stomach turned just at the thought of it.
Tonight was not for that, though. Instead he chose to bury it in the back of his brain and spend some much needed time with you. So why weren’t you home?
If there was one thing Peter knew and loved about you was that you were a schedule person. Totally type-a, your day planned to perfection and given it was just after six o’clock that evening, you should’ve been in the kitchen plating your dinner.
Except, there was no you in the kitchen, there was no music or television playing in the background, it looked as though nothing had been touched all day. Until he stepped further into the kitchen.
When his eyes darted over to the corner of your counter, partly covered by your fridge, he froze. There it sat. An uneaten bowl of cereal. The milk on the counter next to it, the cereal box still opened and there.
As he approached it, observing the contents, you hadn’t even gotten a spoon out yet. It was filled to the brim, more so than you would’ve liked, but given it hadn’t been touched some of the cereal had inflated from the milk.
“Bug?” His voice, calm and collected echoed out into the quiet flat. Finally prying his eyes away from the alarming sight he had just seen, he was stumped. Everything else in the living room and kitchen was exactly as it should have been.
Maybe you were running late this morning and didn’t realize until after you had made your breakfast. Yes, of course! That’s exactly what it was.
Peeking into your bedroom, his heart rate decreased, a sense of relief and ease settling over him at the entirely bogus reasoning he had used to calm himself down. Until the most unusual sight of all was spotted.
Your phone sitting soundly on your nightstand, still connected to the charger. His hand rubbed at his closed eyes, trying to will his breathing to return to a normal rate. Tapping the screen, it lit up with dozens of texts. Some from Peter, some from coworkers, a few missed calls from work.
Never would you ever forget your phone. Never would you ever not put the cereal back in its place. Something was wrong.
His trembling hands removed his own phone from his pocket, before entirely losing any semblance of sanity, he dialed your boss’s number. It picked up on the third ring and Peter did his best to sound as normal as he could.
“Hey, Guy! It’s Peter Parker,” he was instantly cut off by his chipper voice on the other end. “Peter! How the heck are you?” He sighed, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Great, great. I just have a quick question for you,” as Peter asked if you had made it into work today, Guy responded fast.
“No, actually she didn’t today or yesterday. Didn’t even call. It’s not like her at all. I think a few of her team members tried texting her and didn’t hear from her either. Everything okay?” It was the worst thing he could have been told at that moment.
Clearing his throat, he tried to remain calm. “Mhm, yeah, yes. She’s just, uh, very sick. It might be a few days before she’s well enough to get back to the office. I didn’t call earlier because I wasn’t sure if she had or not.”
Guy’s laugh of relief was palpable. “Whew, thank goodness! Okay, well tell her to rest up and we’ll see her when she’s all better.” Thanking him and quickly ending the call, Peter tore your apartment upside down.
Any clues he could think of, any sign of forced entry, anything at all. But there was nothing. It was all still in the pristine condition it had been left in. Not a single thing out of the ordinary despite the two big red flags. Even going through every app on your phone, just in case, but it was fruitless.
Alarm bells were chiming in his head, he knew something was wrong. He knew you were in some sort of danger. He collapsed on your couch, wracking his brain for anything that could have given him something to work with.
Then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye. A small piece of white paper stuck to the tongue of a running shoe you never wore. Turned on its side. He couldn’t remember if he had knocked it over during his rushed search of your apartment, but as he picked it up, his blood turned to ice.
Taped to the shoe were the letters he dreaded seeing. Had been haunting him in his sleep for weeks. When he could sleep that was. Unlike the others, it was almost a clue as to where to go next. His eyes quickly saw the time and knew they were going to strike again soon. Far too soon.
One step forward, three steps back, find her quick before she’s the next attack
It was an anger unlike anything he had ever felt before. Not when his parents had died, not when uncle Ben died, it was so overpowering, Peter truly didn’t know how to control it. Darting out of your window, knowing he was on limited time, he began his search.
A near pointless search. A pill that was hard to swallow. Knowing the chances of actually finding you were so slim. He had the list in the back of his mind, places he had scouted previously that he knew they had used at one point or another.
That was the only thing he could think to do. Which is exactly what he did. Searching one by one individually, spending no more than thirty seconds to one minute at each location before going down the list. Did he destroy some of those places during his searches? Absolutely.
He only grew angrier with each location he arrived at that you weren’t in. His hope was running out. Knowing he was at the last two possible places you could be at that he knew about. It was an abandoned warehouse by the river. The first place he had ever tracked them to, but it was far too late when he made his discovery. They had been out of there for over a week by the time he found it.
They were always just a few steps ahead of him and it drove him mad. His masked face searched the premises from what he could see. Through one of the partly shattered windows, there appeared to be a figure on the far end of the building.
A single light shining on them, their back facing where Peter stood. Sitting in a chair, only a wisp of a shadow, no identifying features to be made out. Assuming it was going to be a fight he was about to step into, Peter broke the remainder of the window and launched himself in.
Eerily silent. No noise in the entire building apart from the howling wind outside. It was beginning to become mid-fall in the city and it was always your favorite time of year. No one was enjoying the crisp autumn air that evening.
It was unbearably stuffy in there. No fresh air had swept through the place in years. The stale scents made that abundantly clear. Peter hesitantly approached the figure, the lighting just so he couldn’t make anything out until only a few hundred yards away.
The minute he saw the tied hands behind the back of the chair, his heart soared. “Bu-bug!” His voice shouted, relief flowing off of him in waves, but they came crashing down just as fast.
He wasn’t even sure if it was you. Incredibly deformed from obvious beatings, your face was swollen, bruised, and bloody like he had never seen before. The zip tie around your wrists had cut into the skin, pieces of flesh hanging from it.
As he looked down, the sticky floor was a deep crimson, continuing to pool from your countless open wounds. No shoes were on your feet, they too were cut and dangling from your seated position, totally limp.
He wasn’t entirely sure what was in your mouth as a makeshift gag, but whatever it was had been there so long, your skin was raw and bruised around it. It was the first thing he removed and as he did, your chipped teeth entered his view.
A blanket was draped over you that was covered in things Peter did not even want to begin to imagine. It was the next thing he went to remove, but he halted the moment it was off your body.
There, stapled to your bare chest, was his next note. The same haunting letters, covered in either your own or someone else’s blood. Based on the missing fingernails, he assumed it was a fight you had given which made him silently pray it was someone else’s, yours already spilled too much.
It took him a second longer than he realized to see that your toes were mainly all facing the wrong way. Your arms bruised from newly broken bones, legs in the same condition.
His trembling voice was the first thing you heard as he cut the tie from your hands, whimpers and choked cries trying to escape your hoarse throat. Immediately going limp, Peter caught you. Your body was convulsing in ways he had never seen, unable to open your eyes and see that Peter had found you.
His tears made heavy tracts on his sweat riddled skin. His gloved hands smoothed over the inflamed sections of your face. “I’m-I’m here bug, I got you. I found you, baby. I got you, okay? It’s okay now, baby.” Despite knowing how difficult and incredibly painful his next actions were going to be, he had to get you out of there.
Medical attention was the only way you were going to be able to survive. That meant Peter was going to have to carry you to the hospital. No possibility of emergency services being able to get to you before it was too late.
He was right. Had he waited for emergency services you would have died. You had been in the hospital for three weeks now. Finally in a state where you were fully conscious, despite the pain that never subsided, you were doing better than everyone thought.
It was unclear how long you had been in their “care” before Peter had found you. Based on the little memory you had from the snatching, it was assumed you had been with them for at least forty-eight hours, possibly more.
Peter hadn’t left your side since. Growing tired of hearing the nurses and doctors praise Spider-Man for having found you and saving you when he did. Hardly. He had hardly saved you.
In fact, this was his fault. It was the conclusion he had made. His careless and reckless behaviors had led them straight to you. He hadn’t spoken to you in a week and look what they had done. They thought they had killed you. There hadn’t been another attack yet. It meant nothing though.
No, the note left for him said otherwise. You’ve made it three steps back, how long until the grand final act?
Peter was frightening you. Since you had been awake and aware of what was happening, he had hardly spoken to you. The deep purple bags under his eyes were only growing worse, skin a sickly gray you had never witnessed in a human before, face hollowing out from lack of rest and food.
All he did was write in his notebook.
Curled up in a chair, he stared at the pages for hours on end. Occasionally writing and scribbling in it. His eyes never rested, constantly darting around the pages. It had been weeks of this. Total silence from him, not sure how to talk to him when he was like…this.
It was another late night in the hospital, having drifted in and out of painful sleep all day. Based on the lack of staff and visitors present, you assumed it was the middle of the night. The hospital floor just outside your door was quiet. An easy night for the staff, you thought.
Trying to figure out how to eat a pudding cup, one of the only things you could keep down, was your current task at hand. The tv playing with hardly any sound, it being the only main light in there, Peter silently re-reading whatever was in that book. That was the current mood of your room.
Eating was difficult. Only having three working fingers on your non-dominant hand, luckily one being your thumb, you struggled to pick up the spoon, also knowing you couldn’t move your arm to bring the spoon to you or bend over to get closer to consume anything. Just trying to move to secure the spoon in your mangled fingers had you on the verge of tears, losing your breath along the way.
You could do nothing without help. Not wanting to ask Peter for any assistance because of how poor his mood was. That was where you two currently sat with one another. Scared to speak to him more than absolutely necessary. Hardly speaking since being here.
His eyes briefly glanced at you before realizing what you were trying to do, throwing his notebook onto the side table. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you even trying to do, bug?” His voice was soft, a slight laugh in his voice, exhaustion evident with each word spoken. Taking the spoon from your hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed, beginning to bring it to your lips.
It was silent until your eyes darted back at the book, deciding to take a leap. “Whatcha writing?” Your cracked, gravelly, and weak voice echoed through the silent room.
It made him want to revert to a blind rage attack. Your voice that was usually so full of life and excitement. Strong and loud that could command an entire room with only a few words. Now, he could hardly hear you, understand you, look at you. Jaw clenching at the question, his teeth grinded together.
When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of you beaten in that warehouse, left for dead. The immense pain you had been suffering through ever since then. Scars that would never fade, both physically and mentally meant he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Not until he found them.
Your face was doing better, still black and blue, but healing. Able to open your eyes and look at him despite the popped blood vessels. Bandages littered every inch of your skin, wrists tightly wrapped with special medicine for the skin loss.
“Notes,” he murmured, eyes darkening as you asked your question, obviously not wanting to speak about it more. Changing the topic as your pudding came to an end, his hand brushed through your hair, knuckles lightly brushing against your cheek. “What do you need? Anything?”
It was silly. A simple question to see if you really did need anything. It didn’t stop the tears from hurriedly falling down your face. “Yo-you, Peter. I need you. I don’t know where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been here with me. I feel like I’m healing on my own. Like you’re not even here. You sit in that chair, staring at that notebook for days on end. You’ve hardly looked at me, spoken to me, listened to me. Please, just come back to me. Please, Pete.” It was borderline begging, but months of pent up frustration had broken the dam.
Peter’s heart continued to crack with each additional word you said. Realization of what he was doing to you, slamming into him all at once. He nodded, chin resting on one of the side rails, sniffling himself. “I’m here, bug. Whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”
Your only non-fully broken hand you extended towards him, wincing in pain from the movement. Scared to touch you, he only placed your hand back down, removing the side rail to get as close as possible to you.
The rest of the night, you two sat chatting ,watching whatever movies you wanted. It was a glimpse at the man you had seemingly lost all those months ago. Peter was back.
You were released from the hospital just shy of a week later. Peter’s plan to nurse you back to health was his moving in with you. While it was just supposed to be while you recovered, you two ended up enjoying it so much, he was now permanently living there.
It felt like your relationship was shooting by leaps and bounds, spending time together like you had never experienced before. Him being there when you went to bed at night and his face being the first thing you spotted when your eyes opened was a treat you didn’t know you needed.
Feeling content, cared for, respected, and loved like never before. Peter admitted, with your confession to him in the hospital about how distant he had become, tore him apart. He had never seen you moved to tears in such a way, especially over him.
He didn’t realize how deep he had been sucked in until that moment. From then on, Peter swore to keep his other persona on the sidelines for a bit whilst you healed and needed him. Did that mean he was going to stop being Spider-Man in the meantime?
Of course not. It meant that side of him was reserved for the span of time from when you fell asleep to about forty minutes before you would wake up in the morning. Absolutely clueless as to the fact that he had been out all night.
Hunting. Stalking. Tracking.
It was the first night in which you didn’t need him to help lay you down in bed. Peter knew his sleep schedule was already fucked, each time his eyes would drift shut all he could see was you strapped to that chair, nearing death.
And the fact that he hadn’t caught them.
Keeping him up at night, when he could sleep it was plagued by nightmares. Peter knew that there was no opportunity for him to rest while these scumbags were still wandering the streets, looking for another prey to select for their sick games.
Which is why he was doing this without you knowing. Not wanting to worry you and cause you further stress. No, Peter could do this. Would do this. Had to do this. He had made amazing moves. Truly spectacular given the place he had been stuck in before.
They had no idea he had found them, watched their every move, plotted what he was going to do to them. Honestly, when he first spotted one of the three he had discovered had been involved in your…incident, it took every ounce of strength he had to not murder the man right then.
He had to remind himself that all he had to do was provide some patience and the reward would be unlike anything he imagined. And imagine he did.
It was what plagued his thoughts every single day as he watched you hobble around such short distances that only offered pain and tiredness from. His eyes would drift over your still bruised skin as he helped you bathe and it was like witnessing it all over again.
Your hand would tip his chin up, forcing him to lock eyes with you. It was nearly impossible to not see the sadness and hurt in his eyes. Disappointed in himself for letting this happen to you. It didn’t matter because what had happened was now in the past and all you were looking forward to was healing.
The emotional and traumatic scars left on you were not easy to mask. Perhaps that was another reason why Peter was so furious as well. If he moved too quickly behind you, you jumped and a small scream would follow. Trembling for upwards of an hour before settling down. Peter would have to tell you small things to gather your thoughts.
Feel my hand? I`m right here, bug. Here, I want you to use the remote and put on whatever you want. You feel the couch under you? You’re home, baby. You’re safe.
If it weren’t for Peter, you weren’t sure what you would do. He was your rock, your other half, offering reason for unreasonable thoughts. He was your Peter.
The rain was pattering against the window, a sort of white noise you weren’t expecting tonight, but were grateful for it nonetheless. It helped you drift off to a dreamless sleep, exhaustion from trying to do some basic things today taking too much out of you.
Peter was already out of the house before he knew you were soundly asleep. He couldn’t risk being late. Tonight was the night.
Weeks of following them, understanding and breaking their odd patterns, he watched as they went according to plan perfectly. A construction sight for a new high rise. This was their new rendezvous sight for the next attack.
There wouldn’t be another attack.
Counting silently in his head, as he saw a flicker of a small light near the top floor, his count was perfect. They entered exactly on schedule. Crawling down the side of the building and using the thunderstorm to his advantage, he shattered a window a few floors up.
There was no other way that he knew of other than how they had entered and that was far too risky as they had all other doors blocked. As he slowly descended the staircase to scout the floor and determine which room they were in, his hair stood on end as a voice hit his ear.
Three of them. All there. The monsters who were behind your attack. Simply waiting for him.
Except, they didn’t know they were waiting for him. No, tonight was a setup night. Preparation for the coming days of their next plan. Peter had determined fairly early on it was not going to be their final act like they had claimed.
The door was kept slightly ajar with a cinder block, no handles on them yet meaning if it closed, there was no way out for them. Which was their plan for their next victim. Leave the poor soul trapped here with no means of getting out alive.
Peter’s skin was crawling, every instinct shouting at him to just do it. End them now. It would be so easy. He shook off those thoughts, knowing his plan was the correct one.
He dropped to the floor behind them, one of them catching him out of the corner of their eye, a smirk taking over his face. “Spidey boy finally found us, boss.” The thick accent made him hard to understand. Peter kept silent. Very silent.
The other two turned to face him, matching looks on their hideous faces. “How’s your girl? You otta be more careful next time or she could get seriously hurt.” A chuckle escaped them. Peter still didn’t move, watching them from a few paces away.
Quickly deciding they weren’t a fan of the silent treatment, the largest man in the center who Peter knew to be their ringleader drew his gun. In the blink of an eye, web flew towards the gunman, pinning the weapon to the wall behind him.
“Come on now, you didn’t think I knew what you have on you? Just like how I know tweedledee over here is about to throw a knife at me,” Peter ducked out of the way as the blade hurdled towards him. “Now how about we all play nice and introduce ourselves?”
An over exaggerated sigh escaped Peter’s lips as the three men darted towards him, but he acted quickly, webbing them to the surrounding walls, letting one approach him to fight him. “Guess not. Okay, then. I guess I’ll be the one making the rules tonight then.”
Peter grabbed the three chairs from one of the corners of the room before leisurely strolling towards the door and pushing the cinder block from the opening. He whistled a made up tune as he removed them one by one, webbing them to the seats to the point of them not being able to move an inch.
“You know, it’s such a shame sometimes that I wear this mask because I would love you guys to see how big of a smile I have right now. Scouts honor, I am overjoyed that we finally get to do this!” He took his own seat directly across from them.
His head scanned them before pointing at the one on the right. “Let’s start with you bumblebee. What’s your name?” His black and yellow striped shirt was what appointed him his nickname. “You think we’re going to talk? I have nothing to say.”
Peter nodded at his words before looking at the other two. “Same goes for you two then, I assume?” When they didn’t respond, instead only seeing spit hurl towards him, he dropped his head, shaking it. “Such a shame. Alright, last chance. Just give me a name.”
Silence.
A shrug. “It brings me no joy to resort to this, fellas. I’m truly not a violent person. I pride myself on being as gentle as I can be. " He began pacing around, his chair discarded behind him now. “Igor, Viktor, Sasha.” He pointed at each of them individually as he divulged their names.
He gave himself a small satisfactory pump into the air at his success. He could tell he was correct by the little one on the lefts eyes growing slightly wider. It was just the start. As Peter continued on, he got tiny tidbits of information. Only when he presented to them what he knew. Which at this point was everything.
Names, date of births, addresses, spouses, children, education records, dental records, you name it, Peter had it. It still wasn’t enough to get them talking like how he wanted. Instead, Peter fell into the second part of his plan earlier than he had expected.
With seven toes, five fingers, three teeth, many beatings, and an ear, they were beginning to squeal. The leader, Igor, was suspended from the ceiling by his bound hands submerged in webbing. He was entirely nude, body cut up in ways that had blood spilling from him ferociously.
Viktor was webbed entirely to the floor, his entire body covered in fluid despite only one singular nostril. He was the one who cracked first which Peter expected after his reaction to his grandmothers home address in his tiny village in his home country. It was quickly discovered that he was mainly an action man, simply doing what he was told, not a mastermind of any sort.
The other one, Sasha, was who most of the beatings had gone towards once Viktor had divulged it was him who had mainly been the culprit in your beating. Webbed to the wall with no chance of escape, Peter mimicked all the injuries you had sustained on him and then some. Just missing a few fingers and toes now as well.
As the night drew to a close, Peter admired the work he had done. He wiped his gloved hands in a motion to signify he was wrapping up. They were hardly conscious enough at this point to understand what was happening to them. To understand the fate they had drawn themselves to.
There was just one final thing he needed to do. Grabbing the needle and thread he brought with him for tonight and tonight only, he walked slowly towards the nude man. “Did you know that I sew all of my suits? Crazy right! How in the world does he have the time to do this, you might ask. It’s a valid question, but you know what, if I took it to lets say a seamstress, I would be unbelievably broke. Not to mention, how does one drop off the Spider-Man suit without drawing suspicion. First world problems, am I right?” 
The man didn’t respond, but as Peter pierced the needle into his skin, his yelp rang in Peter’s ears. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t be moving around now, you’ll make my stitches go all out of wack here.” Peter took his time, but as he finished he admired the handy work.
Sewn into the man chest was a letter of his own. Crafted just for them. A message curated specifically for their enjoyment.
“How time flies, boys. Suns coming up here shortly. Time for me to be heading out.” He smashed a window, ready to crawl out, but he remembered one final thing he needed to do. Walking back over to Igor, he pulled his head back by the hair on his scalp, making him look into the bug eyed mask.
The whimper that fell from the grown man was laughable to Peter. “If you or your dogs come near anyone I love again, our next visit will not be as enjoyable as this one. If you get out of here, I mean.” Tears fell from the corner of his eyes as Peter released his head to fall back into its resting position.
“See you later, guys! Make better choices!” He called out behind himself as he crawled out the window, webbing it shut behind him before making his way home to you.
It was the first time in months that Peter felt like he could breathe. Taking in the fresh morning air, just minutes before the sun began to peak on the horizon, signaling the arrival of a new day. His lungs expanded with the deep breath of air, wanting to sob at the weight removed from his shoulders.
As he made his way back into the apartment, he spotted you in bed. Still curled up in the comforter, sound asleep, none the wiser of his whereabouts the night before. The brusing getting less and less noticeable by the day.
When he crawled into bed next to you, he refused to fall asleep, not tired in the least. No, instead as the sun began to shine through the curtains, he watched you. Watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath, grateful you were taking those breaths.
Because Peter knew that it wasn’t long ago where those breaths weren’t guaranteed. Now, he counted each one, to make sure you were okay. Of course you were okay now. Peter just needed to make sure.
It wasn’t too long after when you began stirring, eyes blinking open to see his golden eyes staring down at you with the softest gaze Peter had ever had. “Morning,” you mumbled, he whispered it back to you.
“You sleep okay?” He asked, to which you nodded, asking him the same. “Of course I did.” You smiled, getting up and ready to start your day.
You just needed to pretended you didn’t see the bruises adorning his knuckles. “What’s for breakfast?”
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calliethetrekkie · 1 month
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Star Trek TOS S01E19: Arena
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Original Thoughts
"Well now I know which episode those screenshots of Kirk fighting lizard men that are clearly guys in uper cheap costumes come from. So Kirk is forced into a battle to the death more or less against a vicious alien species by another alien species of greater power. Man, they’ve had bad luck with the latter thus far. Despite the cheapness making it hard to take seriously, it was cool to see Kirk get to fight full-on against something since episode 3. Shatner kinda overacted a bit with the dialogue, but was fine otherwise in a more action-oriented episode that had Kirk completely on his own with no help available to him. Kirk’s proven to be quick-witted in the past, such as in the previous episode, but he had nothing but wits and a communicator here, and he was awesome! The Gorn are also dangerous but also display intelligence and cunning like how the one came pretty close to killing Kirk and devising a way to trap him. The Enterprise’s helplessness in this situation is also very strong with even Spock unable to do anything but wait it out. A cheap episode for sure, but a good episode regardless."
Rewatch Thoughts
Wow Callie, way to not even pay attention to the moral of the episode, you dummy!
When going back to rewatch this one, I only remembered two things about it: the Gorn and the scene where McCoy tries to hold Spock's hand while they're watching Kirk struggle. The former cause of that legendary costume, the latter cause... well, me taking in every Spones moment that I can. Otherwise? I remembered virtually nothing else. It sucks that I forgot about most of it, but it's also kind of nice cause I got to experience it again, and DEAR GOD this is so much better than I had remembered!
The first part of the episode is great, from Kirk and McCoy being all giggly and cute in the transport room to them finding the base they were going to utterly obliterate. Only one guy was still alive and it was an active blast zone as well that only our three mains, the dying guy, and one Blue shirt survived. We're left wondering WTF happened and Kirk... well, he doesn't take the incident well. He declares it an invasion and goes after the ship of those responsible, fully intending to return the favor.
It was a little scary TBH to see Kirk so... I guess the word that works best is vengeful. I don't think I've ever seen him this willing to kill an enemy before, even in Conscience of the King he kept his cool overall. I guess given the amount of life lost, even compared to say Balance of Terror, it makes sense. It's not OOC either, we've seen Kirk flare up whenever any of his men are killed/threatened (The Man Trap, Balance of Terror, The Corbomite Maneuver to some extent) so what looks like a calculated attack on this level? And when he's the only one in a position to give pursuit? Yeah, Kirk ain't gonna let that go. He's going to find whoever/whatever did this and stop it before such a thing happens again.
This presents a problem, however, that being how irrational Kirk is being. I don't mean that in a bad way either, it's interesting to see this side of Kirk. He's so determined to pursue this enemy, to take them down, that he doesn't care about any possible explanations about why the Gorn did what they did. Spock tries to express that very concern, but it falls on deaf ears and he pretty timidly falls back into place. Spock's very much been willing to question Kirk before, we saw it in Conscience of the King, but in that instance, he had time to go over everything before choosing to confront Kirk and also discuss it with McCoy, who noticeably stays in Sickbay until Jim gets whisked away. Given McCoy's the one who would most likely speak back and try to talk Jim out of it/appeal to him emotionally, keeping him in Sickbay with the traumatized, nearly dead officer and thus unable to be Kirk's soundboard to vent his emotions to had to have been on purpose. That's not to say that Spock is a mindless follower, he isn't by any means. But at least at this stage of ST, I don't think he has the nerve to argue or defy Kirk without being prepared for it or without McCoy or someone else in his corner to back him up. Plus logically, what can he argue against Kirk when he's not gonna listen? He can't. This is why in cases like Conscience of the King and later in Obsession, you need Spock and McCoy both standing up to Kirk: alone they probably couldn't do much, but together? Jim doesn't stand a chance haha.
Even the crew is pretty mortified by Kirk's recklessness and... for lack of a better word, murderousness. Uhura gives him some mega side-eye when he and Spock are talking, and everyone looks mortified when Kirk keeps making them go up to more and more dangerous Warp levels. They don't go against the orders, but it's very clear that they're unsettled. Kirk is very much presented as in the wrong and dangerously reckless for everyone. He doesn't even really give a damn when Uhura tells him that they're being scanned nor questions why the Gorn are coming to a dead stop when entering the mysterious galaxy, only caring that they have the chance to shoot them down. He is laser-focused on shooting down the enemy, and this bites him in the ass hard as the Metrons, unhappy to have this quarrel brought to their end of the universe, forces Kirk and the Gorn Captian to settle the matter... one-on-one.
Kirk is in a bad position, but it's kind of cool to see him under conditions like this. He has no weapons, no way to communicate with he Enterprise, he has nothing but his own wits. He's against a Gorn, who is much stronger and as Kirk finds out, very much intelligent. That's one thing I enjoy about the Gorn, they are brutish and violent, but the Gorn Captian at least isn't stupid. Kirk mistakes the alien translator that the Metrons outright told him that they were giving him to talk directly to the Gorn. In other words, because Kirk didn't pay close enough attention to the Metrons words, he gave away EVERYTHING that he was thinking and doing to the Gorn, who took all of that, and countered. He even set up his own trap and Kirk survived by the skin of his teeth. Ironically the guy in the cheap lizard costume was the one being smart and calculative, while Kirk... well sorry honey, but you're kind of an idiot during most of this. But it's okay, I know it's cause your two brain cells aren't with you.
Speaking of said brain cells, the Spock and McCoy moments during all of this are so good! I mentioned the hand-chasing bit, which is still fantastic and I'll never get over the fact that De Kelley decided that was perfectly IC to do. But even disregarding that, this is a really good one to watch if you wanna see a good example of their relationship when they aren't bickering. You can REALLY tell that McCoy wants to when he gets to the Bridge and presses Spock for answers, but he actually holds it in. Likely due to the time-pressing circumstances, but still. I mean he even turns the Captain chair so Spock can sit in it properly (my hilarious theory is Nimoy somehow missed it when filming so they had to have De holding it so Nimoy wouldn't hurt himself), how anyone can look at them here and think they hate each other I'll never know. I also love how it's when McCoy appeals to the Metrons to let them see Jim that the Metrons decide to show some compassion and comply. It's an early sign to them that humans aren't just savage killers, and it's Leonard 'The Heart' McCoyt hat starts it.
Spock also doesn't even attempt to hide his emotions here, his uncertainly over what to do and how he doesn't know where Jim is, his fear and worry when seeing Kirk near death, his relief when Kirk starts piecing together what to do with the resources around him, and let's not forget earlier where he decided that going after Kirk in an active blast zone was a perfectly logical thing to do. Seriously, this is also a great episode to point to whenever Spock claims he has no emotions cause... yeah sorry Spock, all you've proven is how Vulcans are giant ass liars.
Honestly, this is such a good episode showing how devoted the Enterprise crew is to Kirk. When Kirk instructs Sulu to abandon the landing party if necessary and to protect his ship, Sulu very clearly does NOT want to do it. He knows he has to comply, but if he has the chance to save Kirk and the others, I don't doubt at all that he would do it. Despite the visible shock regarding Kirk's orders and actions, all of the Bridge are horrified and worried when he disappears and when they see how badly he's doing. Poor Uhura looks like she's about to cry I swear. Kirk has his bad moments, but ultimately he's a respected Captain for a reason and Uhura, Scotty, and Sulu especially know that (and Chekov but he ain't around yet). No one wants anything to happen to him and if anyone on that ship could do something to save him, they would. They're so devoted to Kirk, even when they disagree with him, and I love it.
All that said, in the final stretch the Gorn finally speaks and we find out why they obliterated the Base and everyone on it: because Starfleet were the invaders. The space was the Gorn's and Starfleet suddenly setting up a base there scared them and they concludedconclusion that it was an enemy attack waiting to happen. While they certainly jumped the gun... I don't blame the Gorn too much, to be honest. You see these people that look virtually alien to them settling in without any explanation about where they're form or what they intend, what other conclusion is there to make? I don't believe Starfleet was attempting to do anything malicious, at least in this case, but the fact that they just assumed the space was free for the taking... yeah, not one of your better moves guys. Did that justify the Gorn's actions? It's hard to say since they certainly had an understandable reason, but it still caused massive casualties that I think could have been avoided had the two sides just... talked and mediated things. Still, as McCoy points out, Starfleet was the one in the wrong first, and Kirk just about nearly caused even more unnecessary bloodshed because he didn't at all consider why this happened to begin with.
Given that, it makes sense why the Metrons would see us humans as primitive savages (poor Spock getting lumped in there too haha), especially with Kirk's behavior up to that point. It makes his decision to NOT kill the Gorn Captain, despite having blasted him to near death and having the perfect opportunity, all the more impactful. Throughout the episode, it's all he'd wanted to do, to the point of endangering the Enterprise and everyone on it to get the chance. But having now heard the Gorn's reasonings and being able to look at his own actions, he realizes how wrong he was. The Gorn aren't mindless monsters, they were afraid and were trying to protect themselves from what they saw as invaders, and it was a matter that Starfleet provoked first. He even refuses the Metrons offer to kill the Gorn and instead wants to properly mediate things over. It convinces the Metrons that there's hope for humanity before returning Kirk back to the ship safe and sound.
Given recent times, the moral honestly this a lot harder. The Gorn were motivated by fear, Kirk was motivated by vengeance, and had it kept going I could easily see things escalating into full-blown war. Ultimately though, Kirk decides to be the better man and not continue it. He's seen the destruction that the Gornc caused and likely people he knew got killed, he fought the Gorn Captian face-to-face and both of them were fighting to the death, and acted irrationally all throughout the episode. But Kirk learned and chose the diplomatic route instead. I wish that it were that simple, to realize all sides feelings and decide that there's been enough hatred, fear, and vengeance by everyone. I wish that more leaders chose to communicate and mediate things out, which si certainly more difficult than it sounds but it's still a better option than war and death. TOS is outdated in so many ways, but is also still incredibly relevant in others and I think that this is very much one of those kinds of episodes. It certainly hit me a LOT harder this time around than it did the first time.
This episode is so freakin' good. A great plot with a very well-handled message, great character moments for both our main trio and the Bridge crew, and very well-executed tension. I knew full well how this whole thing ended and I was still worried about if Kirk would make it out, that's how well this episode does in immersing you in it. Even Shatner's over-acting, which tbh wasn't even as over the top as I made it sound in the first viewing, didn't phase me. Also that Gorn suit is perfection and it needs to stay the Gorn's default look, I don't make the rules! I thoroughly enjoyed this one... and hopefully, the memory of it helps me survive the next episode, The Alternative Factor, cause if it's like I remember... yeah I'm not gonna be feeling much joy after it. But that's for then, for now? Arena is great~!
Original Rating: 4/5 Rewarch Rating: 9/10
[My TOS Reviews]
[TOS S1 Reviews]
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spirk-trek · 8 months
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I would love to hear your thoughts on kirk's backstory and what happened on tarsus iv, I feel like I've read so many conflicting takes on here and none of them actually match up with the episode (conscience of the king)
Hi anon! The way you worded this makes me think you were just looking for information and not a fic request. Forgive me if I was wrong!! 😅
I think the reason there are so many conflicting ideas is because of how vague it is in canon itself (which is cool, leaves a lot of room for interpretation). Because of this, when I recently wrote a thing about Tarsus IV I also struggled with "research" for it. Here's what I came up with:
!!! Disclaimer! I am not declaring any of this the One True Canon™! This is just my interpretation/speculation based on existing lore !!!
To me, it makes most sense for Jim to be sent to Tarsus IV with his mother, and for her to be a civilian scientist/researcher of some kind. I find it very hard to believe the massacre could have taken place if Starfleet were present, which would include George Kirk, Jim's father. George is said to have been absent often due to his work (SNW), so it wouldn’t be strange for him to be separated from his family (this is also just normal in Star Trek in general, i.e. Sulu [AOS] and like… everyone with children in TNG).
A more recent Trek book called Drastic Measures seems to back this exact idea up (depends who you ask which novels are canon, and this book was written for Discovery so take it with a grain of salt).
Sam would, in the TOS timeline, be 10 years older than Jim (~23). That would make it unlikely he'd be tailing after his mother to remote colonies. It's much more likely he was concerned with his own career/family/life.
So, in summary of those points, I think it was just Jim and Winona. Jim is between 12 and 14 years old, and his mother was a civilian researcher (the novel I mentioned earlier made her a xenobiologist, probably for plot reasons).
Something I do see exaggerated sometimes is the method of killing in the massacre. An antimatter chamber appears to be what was used, similar to A Taste of Armageddon, so it would not have been mass carnage or a big dramatic fight in the end. Just... zap. 
SPOCK: "He was certainly among the most ruthless, to decide arbitrarily who would survive and who would not [...] and then to implement his decision without mercy. Children watching their parents die. Whole families, destroyed. Over four thousand people. They died quickly, without pain, but they died.”
However, these are also quotes from the episode, so I can see why people might think the massacre itself was more violent: 
- JIM: “Four thousand people were needlessly butchered.” - LEIGHTON: “I remember him. That voice. The bloody thing he did.”  - JIM: “Are you sure you didn't act this role out in front of a captive audience whom you blasted out of existence without mercy?” - KARIDIAN/KODOS: “Murder, flight, suicide, madness. I never wanted the blood on my hands ever to stain you.” 
There was a revolution of some kind, probably brought about by people easily radicalized out of hunger and desperation.
- KARIDIAN/KODOS: [reading] "The revolution is successful…” - SPOCK: “There were over eight thousand colonists and virtually no food. And that was when Governor Kodos seized full power and declared emergency martial law.”
If Kodos already had his ideas about eugenics, which it sounds like he did, he would have seized this as an opportunity. This would make him an even more solid comparison to Hitler, which they were definitely going for to at least some extent (this was written two decades after WWII which many involved in the making of star trek were deeply affected by if not veterans themselves).
Because of the above quotes, I also think there’s merit to the idea of there being multiple formal executions where Kodos gave his infamous “speech” each time rather than just once (this would be another reason Jim would remember it enough to write it down), rather than one massive execution of 4,000 people. However, this quote could be interpreted to mean the opposite:
SPOCK: “Kodos began to separate the colonists. Some would live, be rationed whatever food was left; The remainder would be immediately put to death.”
Arguably, the even more traumatic suffering would be the period of starvation and upheaval leading up to the massacre. To me, a 3-6 month period of slowly worsening starvation as the food supply shrank and shrank to nothing would make the most sense.
One aspect I don't quite get is that Kodos's body was supposed to have been "burned beyond recognition.” Since we know from Conscience of the King his death was staged, then this fake death can’t have been pulled off in the midst of Starfleet intervention upon arrival (they would have taken him into custody to stand trial rather than kill him on sight anyway). Burning yourself to death is a highly unusual form of suicide, so I’m not sure if that’s supposed to allude to him being fake killed in the carnage following the execution when the people didn't react the way he wanted or expected? My only theory is that there was unrest and rioting for the period of time between the massacre and Starfleet arriving with relief, and he used that to fake his death once he knew he would be put on trial.
Anyway, this is super long so I'll cut myself off there. Hope that answered your question, sorry for being crazy! If anyone has anything to add, please do!
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sailing-ever-west · 4 months
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can never stress enough how racially charged this scene feels whether it was intentional or not. (don't have the complete page but found some relevant panels, Klahadore says even more demeaning stuff but this is the gist).
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One Piece is already about class warfare thematically but add in the specific language Klahadore uses and the fact that Usopp is black-coded and it feels...chilling, honestly. Klahadore insults Usopp in an incredibly personal way, going after his father (and by implication his family, his class, his people), demeaning him for who he is and where he came from, saying he lacks moral character because of it and he'll never amount to anything more than a criminal like Yasopp (despite Usopp having not done any criminal activity at this point). And then when Usopp is rightfully angry and fights back, Klahadore uses that as proof that he's naturally violent and animalistic.
It's like. Textbook.
Also, "the guards have reported seeing you lurking around the estate" may as well be directly pulled from real life instances of racism. White people reporting a "suspicious person" in their nice, suburban neighborhood when it's just a black man walking down the street or visiting a friend like anyone else. Granted, Usopp was sneaking around to some extent but he really wasn't very discreet about it, he just knew he couldn't come in through the front gate. (Also, he only had to sneak through the back because he was discriminated against and not allowed to come in like a normal guest!!) Nothing was ever stolen. Kaya was never hurt. There was no indication he was doing anything actually threatening. Really he was shunned for the crime of daring to socialize with a pure, innocent, rich white girl who must not understand what a danger he was to keep as a friend.
And then there's the part where Merry freaking shoots him, no questions asked, which I think about constantly. Now, at that point, he appeared to be kidnapping Kaya, so it was totally reasonable to try and use force. But Merry has known this boy for years and he's never been violent or threatened Kaya in any way. Even just then he took out the guards non-lethally and only when they attacked him. Surely there would be explanations to demand, or some solution other than going straight to a shotgun (especially when Kaya could be easily caught in the crossfire, and almost did while defending him), but no, he turns on Usopp in an instant, all the way to lethal weaponry. I can't help but think of how many black people have been shot by cops or paranoid homeowners at the first sign of trouble, with no other considerations, just that instinct of fear.
Feel free to say I'm reading too much into it, since as a white person myself I can't exactly claim authority, but I can never watch these episodes without seeing this.
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tobiasdrake · 5 months
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What do you think of Majin Buu's redemption?
Complicated. Buu's arc isn't... I wouldn't really call it a redemption, so much? It's closer to a child learning right from wrong for the first time. Just. Muddied by the extent of the wrongs Buu committed in ignorance.
Morally speaking, Majin Buu is a very complicated character that operates on an eldritch scale. He doesn't map 100% onto a relatable human experience.
The original state of Buu, colloquially known as Kid Buu or Pure Buu, is effectively a mindless killing machine.
Like. That's not to say that he's a zombie or something. Pure Buu demonstrates creative attacks, learns moves from watching others perform them, and is capable of advanced problem-solving.
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But by the same token, he doesn't really seem... self-aware. Pure Buu's behavior is more akin to a feral beast than a sentient person.
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I would compare him to a robot. He's capable of learning, applying knowledge, and working out solutions to obstacles in front of him. But he has no sense of self, identity, or real understanding of the universe around him; Only a program that he uses his comprehension to carry out.
He's making advanced calculations, rather than informed choices. He exists for the singular purpose of purging all things that exist.
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No, Goku. He does not. He is not interested in fighting you. He is not interested in anything. He is executing Annihilation.exe.
The only reason the fight on the Kaioshin world can even happen is because their god-world apparently can't be blown up.
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This is what writing yourself into a corner with protagonists who can't breathe in space and a villain who blows up any planet he touches looks like.
Even Buu himself doesn't like this version of him. He practically begs Goku and Vegeta not to erase his identity and personality.
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This is the foundation that Buu starts from: A killing machine programmed to destroy. But then he absorbed the Daikaioshin or The Great God of the World Kings and developed an intellect and personality.
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(Given that Dragon Ball's mythology is rooted in Japanese Buddhism, it's likely no coincidence that Daikaioshin and by association Fat Buu has a Buddha-like appearance.)
Fat Buu is a lot like Piccolo Jr., with the difference being that the reincarnated Piccolo was very adult-coded while Buu is clearly meant to be taken as a child. Nonetheless, he's the first aspect of Buu to be self-aware enough to become capable of moral agency. Daikaioshin's influence on his mind made him more intelligent, turning him from a mindless killing machine into an impulsive and easily influenced child.
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Look at him in that center panel. Just. Thinking about what Goku said. Mulling it over in his head. Like, he was onboard with this whole "Do what I say because I have power over you" thing but now that you mention it....
Goku does not get enough credit for being the one to kill Babidi. This rolled up to him. He straight-up ended Babidi with a question.
In this form, Buu does vile things, to be sure.
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But as the text box says: He's a child at play. Majin Buu at this point has the moral complexity of a five-year-old. He's not really evil; He just... doesn't know better. He's never been taught better, and so his actions are almost paradoxical in nature.
Legit, one of my favorite chapters of the entire Buu arc is when he encounters a starving blind kid and heals his blindness so he can be properly afraid of him. Then winds up making friends.
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Nuked that town and also he made that milk by Candy Beaming a human being so that's horrifying. And yet, you can see the peculiarity of his villainy even this early. Buu craves approval, even though he's been taught to care only about destruction and carnage.
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Craves it so much that bringing an end to his carnage is as simple as asking him to stop.
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And that's that. It's really not so much a redemption story as it is a child being taught better. Mr. Satan was the first person ever to actually say to this thinking form of Majin Buu, "Hey, that's bad. Don't do that. It's bad."
The first person to try parenting him instead of fighting him. (To be fair, it would have been impossible to parent him before Goku's semantic homicide of Babidi.)
Once this form of Buu returns in the final battle, he still isn't really a moral actor. He becomes a protagonist out of nepotism.
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(Yeah, Viz uses Hercule instead of Mr. Satan because they hate fun. HAIL SATAN.)
After Satan asks him to please stop being bad, Buu becomes morally neutral. He's effectively Satan's uncontrollable toddler. He doesn't comprehend high-minded ideals of good or evil; He's an emotional and impulsive creature who cares about his bestie.
Which, to be honest, puts him in good company. Most of the cast of Dragon Ball are ex-assholes who don't so much have a traditional redemption story, but instead just... stop doing the thing. They used to be assholes, and then, for one reason or another, they stopped.
It's actually something I find really grounded about the way Dragon Ball handles its cast. Most of the characters in the series are like this, to varying degrees of past heinousness. There's none of the gravitas of atonement or redemption questing or the Big Moment of Redemption. They just. Stop being assholes and become some guy.
Piccolo is a rare exception.
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